


All That Glitters

by JennaLee



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: 69, Abusive Relationship, Angst, Eventual Romance, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Oral Sex, Physical Abuse, Rimming, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-01-22 17:04:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 32,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12486564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JennaLee/pseuds/JennaLee
Summary: When Ross's relationship with Jared crumbles, Ross is left to pick up the pieces of himself. Barry is there to help.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a commission-in-progress for an angst-loving friend. It contains some dark themes. However, the grittier details are mostly in the first two chapters. And for those concerned, there will be a happy ending.  
> Also, I think Jared is a really sweet guy and I apologize for his portrayal here. (I write what I'm paid to write!)

The first time Jared put Ross in the hospital was an accident. Jared was angry, yelling at a beleaguered call centre employee over the phone over some bill increase, and Ross just happened to be in the way. Ross was trying to be quiet, respectfully quiet so that Jared could just get out his rage and go back to being his sweet boyfriend, and he crossed to his kitchen on socked feet. It was his own bad timing that led him to be directly in the path of the ceramic trinket Jared picked up off the desk to hurl at the opposite wall.

When he woke up in the hospital, Jared was there. So were Barry and Arin. Jared immediately got up to kiss Ross, murmuring, “I’m so sorry” into his mouth. Ross blinked in confusion and felt the presence of the stitches in his forehead. He thought Barry’s smile looked a shade tremulous.

“I didn’t see you,” Jared said when he pulled away. “I didn’t see you standing there. I love you.”

“It’s okay.” Ross managed a smile. The room was so white and bright. He was woozy. “I love you too.”

The second time might have been an accident. Ross had been drinking and he was confused. At least, that was what Jared told him. He remembered coming home after a few beers with Barry, not drunk but tipsy and glowing, his cheeks warm. Jared was sitting on the couch. Ross wanted to go to him, to crawl in his lap to be kissed and held and touched.

But Jared stood up when he saw Ross.

“Where were you?” he demanded. “Where the hell were you?”

Ross’s good humour faded and he blinked dumbly. “I told you, me and Barry went out after work.”

“Just the two of you, huh?”

“Yes,” Ross said, and he remembered a little trickle of fear seeping down his throat. He turned away from Jared and made for the kitchen to get a glass of water.

Jared was faster. Ross opened a cabinet to get the glass, but he bumped into something and he was thrown forward. His head collided with the sharp edge of the wood. He dropped the glass on the counter and it shattered. Jared was yelling at him, and Ross was dazed, and when he put his hand on the counter, a sharp pain shot through his palm. When he yanked his hand away it came back bloody. 

Jared said he was trying to keep Ross steady - that he’d seen Ross start to fall. He grabbed Ross to steady him and Ross hit his head on the cabinet door. He told that story over and over until Ross believed it himself. Sometimes he wondered what he had bumped into, and how it had thrown him forward with such force…and another part of him already knew the answer.

At the hospital neither of them mentioned the lump on his head. “It’s fine,” Jared had said, “just a little goose egg - ” and the nurse didn’t ask Ross how he’d cut his palm. He knew he still smelled like beer. She gave him a numbing shot in the hand, which hurt, but when she put four stitches in his palm Ross could only feel a light tugging as the needle passed through his skin. 

“I love you,” Jared said as they left, kissing Ross’s bandaged hand. “I love you so much. Nobody will ever love you as much as I do.”

When Ross told Arin and Dan what happened the next day, he made it sound like he was home alone. He laughed about it with Barry, who didn’t laugh back. He smiled once, there and gone again, and gave Ross a hug.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” Barry asked him, quietly.

“Sure,” Ross said, side-stepping to avoid Barry’s stare. “I’m hungry, let’s go get Taco Bell.”

The third time was no accident. They’d been arguing all the way home. Jared had come to pick him up from work and Ross failed to hear the buzz of his phone going off. Someone - Ryan or Matt, maybe - let Jared in, and he had found Ross in the kitchen with Barry. Ross had been laughing, leaning in to press his face against Barry’s shoulder. And then he turned around, and Jared was there. He was smiling like he was in on the joke, but there was something dark in his eyes.

Ross quickly apologized for not hearing his phone and went to get his things. When he came back, Jared was talking to Arin and Dan animatedly, and Barry was listening, his eyes narrowed.

“Are you okay, Ross?” Barry asked him.

Ross’s hands were shaky. He forced them to be still and he smiled. “Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Barry said, his eyes flickering between him and Jared. “Yeah, okay. Have a good night.”

“You too,” Ross said, and he followed Jared out to the car.

“Are you fucking him?” Jared asked abruptly as they peeled out of the driveway. 

Ross was startled. “What?”

The car veered into the next lane as Jared’s fists clenched on the wheel. “Are you fucking Barry? Are you cheating on me?”

“No! God!” Ross felt himself redden. “Jared, I’m with you. Barry’s just my friend. My best friend, but just a friend.”

“Yeah? ‘Cause it looks to me like a hell of a lot more than that. It looked like you were getting pretty damn cozy with him.”

“Well, get your fucking eyes checked.” Ross shot back. “We were just hanging out. You’re acting crazy.”

“What did you say to me?” The car jerked again. Ross’s knuckles whitened on the armrest. Jared kept looking away from the road. “What the hell did you say to me?”

Ross tried to maintain his strength. He kept his back straight, his chin high. “Jared, stop it. Calm down.”

“You think I’m crazy? You wanna fuckin’ see _crazy_?” Jared whipped around a corner and Ross’s elbow banged hard into the window. 

“No!” Ross’s control was starting to break. He didn’t like this. Jared was breathing hard, sweating at the temples, his lips curled back in a snarl. “Jared…baby, please, I didn’t mean to say that. I meant - ”

“You go behind my fuckin’ back and I’ll show you crazy.”

“You’re scaring me. I didn’t cheat on you. I didn’t. I’d never.”

“You sound like a fucking liar to me,” Jared said, pushing the car past the speed limit. Ross closed his eyes until they were pulling into his driveway. Jared was still yelling as they got out of the car.

Across the street, a gap appeared in the curtains. People were beginning to watch.

“Please,” Ross said, his chest hitching, his face colouring, “please be quiet, we’re making a scene. My neighbours - ”

“Fuck your neighbours,” Jared snapped back.

“Jared, _please_ \- they’ll call the cops like last time, okay, we can’t just - ”

Jared grabbed his wrist and yanked him forward, pulling Ross into the house so he could slam the door shut behind him. Ross felt the lack of space around him like a crushing weight. Jared was advancing on him, blocking him into the corner as Ross tried to cower. Jared’s fingernails dug into Ross’s wrist. “Call the cops for what? Huh? What are you gonna tell the fucking cops?”

“Jared - ”

“You wanna call the cops and tell them what?”

“I didn’t say - _I’m_ not going to call the cops - I said - my neighbours - ” Ross’s tongue felt like a little dried-up leaf in his mouth. Jared’s eyes were awful to look at. He looked at his feet instead.

“Damn fucking straight, you’re not going to call the cops.”

“Let go.” Ross’s wrist was hurting. “Let go of me.”

Jared’s fingers tightened until the bones in Ross’s wrist ground together and he whimpered. “You better not be fucking cheating on me,” he whispered in Ross’s ear. Then he turned abruptly and pulled Ross toward the stairs.

“Jared, let me go, I can walk.” Ross tried to free his hand. “Jared!” He dug his heels into the carpet. “Where are we going? What are you doing?”

“We’re going up to our room.”

God, Jared wouldn't actually - but what if he did? “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Like hell you’re not,” Jared said, and when Ross cried out and started to struggle in earnest, his free hand clawing at Jared’s to get him to let go. 

It happened so fast. Jared grabbed his hand and bent his index finger sharply to the side. Suddenly Ross forgot all about their argument and Jared’s threats. He pulled back and Jared let him go so that Ross fell to the ground, gasping in pain.

“Oh, fuck,” Jared said. “Fuck.”

Ross stared at his hand as his finger swelled up like a sausage. He needed his fingers, he couldn’t work without them. He’d been able to manage his sliced palm - he could still hold a Cintiq pen - but this…

“Get in the fucking car,” Jared snapped like it was Ross’s fault. “We’ll get it fixed. Stop crying, you’re fine, Christ. You are thirty years old. Act like it.”

“Jared…” Ross tried to get to his feet. Jared offered no help. “You…you…”

“I did jack shit, you did that to yourself. Why were you struggling? Had something to hide, huh?” There was something dark on his face as he muttered under his breath, “Probably didn’t want me to see how loose you were from fucking around behind my back.”

It was a ridiculous and stupid thing to say. Ridiculous and cruel. Ross wondered briefly why we wasn’t more surprised that Jared had spoken to him like that. He couldn’t find the words to protest the awful accusation. 

“Get in the car,” Jared sighed. “Come on.”

And back to the ER, Jared blaring his music, Ross sitting pale and wan in the passenger seat with his hand carefully resting on his thigh. His finger was turning purple in the centre and looked like a big bloated leech.

“I can’t believe this shit,” Jared muttered. “Look at all these fucking people. Here, go sign yourself in. I’m gonna get some food.”

Ross got out of the car, expecting Jared to at least walk in with him. But Jared peeled away as soon as he could.

Ross walked through the sliding doors alone. The triage nurse looked at his hand and classified him as _semi-urgent_ , the second-least important category. She said the wait would be about three hours. She smiled kindly and asked him how it happened. Ross said he’d fallen. He’d have to think of something else to tell his friends at work. 

He managed to sleep in the waiting room, somehow, and when he woke up Jared still wasn’t there. Ross missed him. 

When Jared pulled up in front of the hospital, Ross knew him again. He saw _his_ Jared, his happy and expressive face, his clear eyes. Ross got in the car and hugged him.

Jared kissed his forehead. “How are you feeling?” he asked, all warmth and concern again. 

Ross showed him the aluminium splint that held his finger still and Jared exclaimed over it. They made fun of the way they each said _aluminium_ differently on the way home. Jared was full of laughter. He stopped at Taco Bell and got Ross a steak quesalupa without tomatoes.

When they made love, slowly and carefully to avoid jostling Ross’s hand, Ross cried Jared’s name to the ceiling and shuddered with the force of his release.

After, lying together in Ross’s big bed, Jared smoothed the hair from his forehead and said, “I never meant to yell at you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Ross opened his eyes. “It’s fine.”

“Good.” Jared kissed the tip of his nose. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Jared.”

Jared never mentioned or apologized for breaking his finger. It never came up again. It was as if it had never happened. 

At work the next day, Brian was quiet, and he asked Ross to have lunch with him. He made sandwiches in the Grump kitchen and asked pointed questions on how Ross broke his finger. Ross, acutely aware that Brian was more intelligent than the average triage nurse, stumbled over the finer details in the story he’d whipped up in his head. 

Brian didn’t look convinced.

When Ross joined the others in the editing bay as they laughed over a new sketch, the room went strangely silent. Arin hugged him before he left for the day. Dan seemed flustered and upset. 

And Barry stared hard at Jared’s car when he came to pick Ross up, his right hand clenched into a fist.

**

The next few months slid by in a blur. Jared’s anger festered and spread like a virus.

Most of the time it was nothing much - Jared would slap him for being rude, or for not remembering to pick up groceries, for talking on the phone too long with one of his friends. It would sting for a second and then, more often than not, Jared would kiss the pain away and apologize.

“I love you,” he said. He said it more than he ever had. “Sometimes I just get frustrated. I’m going through a lot of shit right now. Sometimes it really hurts when you don’t pay attention to me.”

“I’m sorry,” Ross would say. “I love you too.”

The apologies eventually stopped. Ross didn’t notice.

The slaps turned to punches. Jared would grab Ross by the hair, grab him by the balls and squeeze, kick him when he crumpled to the ground. He began looking through Ross’s phone almost nightly to check who he’d been talking to. “If you have nothing to hide, why do you care?” he asked when Ross tried to protest.

Ross often forgot to eat. His stomach was always nervous and tight. He bought clothes a size smaller, hid in hoodies at work to avoid awkward questions. He stopped seeing his friends outside of work. Jared didn’t trust any of them.

There were more emergency room visits, more excuses. Ross had his arm in a cast for four weeks. He told everyone that he’d fallen down the stairs, which was half-true. He wouldn’t have fallen if Jared hadn’t pushed him from the landing.

He remembered lying there, at the base of the staircase, stunned into silence. Lifting his arm up, feeling the horrible splintery pain. The arm was at a strange angle and the swelling was immediate and alarming. He had started to cry, big hitching sobs, and Jared swore and rushed down the stairs after him going, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

The doctor asked him how it happened. Ross said he fell. He could never think of anything else to say - he was afraid of starting to babble, sounding like a liar. During the physical exam they gave him, they found a slew of old bruises. More questions, and Ross could not think of lies. The doctor went away with pursed lips and a nurse came in after him with a gentle voice and concerned eyes. She asked him if there was something he wanted to talk about. She told him there were places he could go, safe places. There were numbers he could call where everything was kept confidential.

“I’m fine,” he told her. “I’m fine. Really.”

A different nurse asked him carefully if he’d like to see the young man who had brought him in. Ross said he would like that very much. 

“I didn’t mean to,” Jared swore as he kissed Ross’s pale cheek. “I love you, Ross. I love you more than anybody ever could.”

“I love you too.” And in that moment, he really did. Jared’s big sweet blue eyes and comical smile took his mind off the pain. It was almost like the old days. Before Jared had ever raised a hand to him. Lazy mornings in Jared’s bed, Jared kissing him all over. Ross giggling, squirming as Jared nosed at his belly button. The memories made him ache.

Jared brought him home and made him dinner and didn’t bother him for sex that night. He brought Ross a glass of ice water to take his pain meds with before they slept. They cuddled all night. Ross took a week off work - he couldn’t do much with his arm in a cast, anyway. 

When he did go back, everyone at work signed his cast. Arin signed it with a little heart over the I in his name. Ross wanted to cover it up but couldn’t think of how, or how he’d lie to Arin if he noticed. Jared’s mouth tightened when he saw it, but he said nothing. Ross felt a little tug in his stomach. It would come up later - he was sure of it.

Jared had once liked the other Grumps. He’d been casual friends with Arin and Barry, less so with Dan and Brian. Now he was nothing but suspicious.

That first night after Ross went back to work was the worst. Tired, aching, and miserable, Ross brushed his teeth and combed his hair and crawled into bed thinking about all the odd looks the other Grumps kept shooting him; Dan being the worst for it, with his inability to be subtle.

Barry asked him three times how he’d fallen. Ross’s answer didn’t change. He didn’t want to look too long into Barry’s eyes. Bright blue eyes, warm with concern for him. Ross had always loved blue eyes…

Jared came home late and Ross heard him on the stairs. When he came into the room Ross could already smell alcohol - faint and medicinal, like hard liquor, not beer. Fear made Ross nauseous and the pain in his arm ratcheted up from a three to a seven.

“You awake, Ross, baby?”

“Yeah.”

Jared’s nude body slid on top of his in the dark. He could not bring himself to respond. 

“Come on, Ross,” Jared coaxed, kissing Ross’s neck. “Come on, baby, what’s the matter?”

 _I’m scared of you._ “I just feel tired.”

“I’ll do all the work.” Jared’s knee wedged between Ross’s thighs. “You just lay back and enjoy. It’ll help you sleep.”

Ross opened his mouth and closed it again. Jared was already slicking himself with lube. _I don’t want this._ “No,” he said.

Jared stopped. “What?”

“I said no.” Ross tried to close his legs. “I don’t want to do this right now.”

“Why not?” Jared sounded honestly confused. Ross let out a shaky little breath - maybe Jared wouldn’t get mad at him this time. 

“I’m not in the mood, Jared.”

“What do you mean you’re not in the mood?” An incredulous smile crept across Jared’s face.

“I’m saying no,” Ross was firm. “I’m sorry, but no.”

Jared didn’t stop. He kissed Ross and tried to position himself again as if Ross hadn’t spoken up at all. 

“No,” Ross said again, and was ignored.

Fear shot adrenaline through Ross’s body and he struggled, suddenly terrified, his mouth full of cold horror. 

There was no apology after, not even a limp attempt at sympathy. Jared slapped him in the face, grabbed him by the hair, and told him to go clean himself up.

Ross turned the shower on hot enough to scald him and stayed there for half an hour. When he came to bed, he broke, and he sought comfort in Jared. 

Jared murmured something unintelligible. In sleep, his face looked calm. In sleep, he looked like the man Ross had been so in love with. Ross held on to him desperately and thought that maybe one day things would be okay again.


	2. Chapter 2

“Hey, Ross?”

Ross jerked awake. He’d been dozing at his desk, exhausted. Jared and his friends had been over until nearly three AM. He’d already had a rough day at work. Dan had noticed the bruises on his arm where Jared had grabbed him to yank him upstairs, and Ross had been forced to make up a story on the spot. It took him a moment to register the voice as Barry’s. It startled him to see his door open. Most people knew Ross liked to work uninterrupted.

“I knocked for a while,” Barry explained, reading Ross’s face. “I got worried.”

“Oh,” Ross said, his tongue seeking the stinging spot on the inside of his lip. Jared had hit him in the mouth for talking back that morning. “It’s okay. I was just sleeping.”

“Are you feeling okay?”

“Sure,” Ross said, feeling uneasy as Barry’s eyes searched him. What was he looking for? Did Dan tell him about the bruises? Was he looking for more? “What do you want, Barry?”

“I want to spend some time with you.” Barry’s voice was gentle. “Do you want to go out for lunch together?”

Ross’s stomach lurched. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I have a lot of work to do.”

“Why can’t you hang out with me alone?” Barry pressed, and the tone of his voice let Ross know that he was very much aware of the reason.

“That’s stupid,” Ross tried to laugh. “What do you mean? I’m allowed to do whatever I want.”

_I swear to God, Ross, if I ever see you touching Barry again, I’ll beat you into next year._

“Are you?” Barry asked softly.

_Give me your phone. Give it to me, Ross. Have you been talking to Barry?_

“Ross.” Barry took his hand. “Tell me one thing.”

“Sure. Anything,” Ross lied.

“Why do you stay with him?”

And that really was the million dollar question, wasn’t it? Ross had absolutely no idea how to answer. _Sometimes it’s my fault. Sometimes he says sorry. Sometimes it’s like how it used to be. And sometimes I’m too scared to leave, because he’ll find me._

“He loves me,” Ross said.

“So do I,” Barry gently grasped Ross’s wrist instead, but something on Ross’s face made him let go in a hurry. “I love you too, Ross. We all love you. Me. Brian. Dan. Arin. Holly.”

“I haven’t talked to Holly in forever.”

 _You don’t need to talk to your ex. Why the hell would you want to talk to her? She’s not allowed near this house, you understand?_

And when Holly and Ross had been together, hadn’t Jared been weirdly drawn to her? He’d called her hot. Holly told Ross that he’d made her uncomfortable once. “He’s my friend and everything,” she’d said, “but there was one time where I thought he was going to do something. And it made me sick and scared. Maybe it was just because of…you know…”

Holly was no stranger to abusive people. 

“She’s worried,” Barry said. “She wants to see you.”

“Sure, she can come by the office.”

“I’m not scheduling a visit with Holly like she’s a stranger coming to tour the place,” Barry said, and for the first time Ross could hear just how raw and hurt Barry was.

“Not asking you to.”

“What would you say if me and Arin came home with you today? You can get your stuff and then come back to my place and sleep there. We don’t have to talk about why. We can just do it. No questions asked.”

Ross didn’t answer. His heart was pounding so loud in his ears.

“Ross.”

“No thanks,” Ross made himself say. “Jared and I…have stuff to do.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

There was a long pause. “I’m scared for you, Ross.”

“Why?” 

“You look like hell. You’ve lost weight.” 

Ross smiled. “I’ve just felt sick for the least few days,” he said. “You don’t have to be scared.”

“Ross.” Barry’s voice was firm. “I’m not blind.”

Ross held his gaze until he had to look away.

“It’s getting worse,” Barry said. “He hurts you. I know he does.”

Ross stayed silent. It seemed best.

“I think he was the one that broke your arm,” Barry said bluntly. 

Ross held his breath. Barry saying it aloud somehow made it seem a lot worse than he’d thought. How did that make sense? He had to say something. Otherwise his silence would be taken for an affirmative. And if Barry knew for sure, he would say something to Jared. That was what Ross was most afraid of. 

“I fell down the stairs,” Ross said. “It was just an accident.”

“You’ve been having a lot of accidents lately.”

“Yeah.” God, couldn’t he say something better?

Barry bit his lip and exhaled loudly through his nose. “Is Jared picking you up today?”

“I think so.”

“He should come inside. I want to talk to him.”

“No,” Ross said quickly. He stood up and his knees were wobbly. “Barry, that’s - not a good idea.”

“Then tell him that I’m going to drive you home.”

Ross shook his head. 

“I’m not letting him do this,” Barry said, and his face was flushing. “I’m not going to stand by and watch him do this to you. You’re my best friend.”

“Leave me alone, okay?” Ross stood up from his desk and made to push past Barry. 

“Where are you going?”

“I’m just going to the bathroom,” Ross said meekly, like he did whenever Jared demanded the same thing. Barry seemed to realize what he’d done. The colour in his face faded.

“Ross, I didn’t mean to - ”

“It’s fine.” Ross race-walked to the bathroom, humiliated. He had to do a double take. Brian and Arin were huddled conspicuously close to Ross’s office and they were both looking at him. They looked away quickly when Ross saw them.

Ross ducked into the bathroom and sat on the closed toilet with his face in his hands. After several minutes, a knock came. Arin’s voice from outside the door, quiet and oddly subdued for Arin. “Hey, Ross, you alright?”

Ross flushed the empty toilet. “One sec,” he called, casual. He splashed cold water on his face, tugged his shirt over the bruises, and forced his face into a casual expression. “Someone in the other bathroom?” he joked as he sidled by Arin.

Arin looked at Ross’s face for a moment too long. “Yeah,” he finally said. “Yeah, that’s right.”

“Cool,” Ross said vaguely. Barry wasn’t in his office anymore. Ross huddled at his desk and tried to focus. 

It was a long and stressful day.

Jared picked him up at four-thirty. Ross shoved his things into his bag and hurried outside before any of the other guys came to intervene or say anything. His heart was racing and he knew Jared would notice that something was wrong.

Jared seemed okay when Ross got in. Ross smiled at him and leaned in to kiss his cheek. Jared allowed it. He glanced at the small crowd watching them and lifted his hand to wave casually. 

Ross, acid burning his throat, gripped his thigh with his good hand.

The drive home was fine. Quiet. Jared drove safely and kept his eyes on the road. Ross looked out the passenger window the whole time.

Jared’s silence lasted into the house. He put his keys on the hook and followed Ross into the living room. He did not sit on the couch when Ross did.

“What did you tell them.” Jared’s voice was toneless.

Ross swallowed hard. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jared took a single step forward.

Ross opened his mouth and words just sort of…fell out. “I didn’t say anything. S-someone asked me about a bruise and I didn’t say anything.”

“Someone,” Jared repeats. “You mean Barry.”

It wasn’t a question. Ross didn’t answer.

“What did Barry say?”

“He…” Ross swallowed again. “He just…he’s noticed that I’ve had a lot of bruises lately and that I’ve lost weight.”

“And what did you say.”

“I said I’ve been sick.”

Ross’s phone buzzed. They both looked at it. It was a text from Barry. Ross’s arm felt mechanical, robotic, as he reached forward.

“Give that to me,” Jared said softly.

“But - ”

“Ross. Give me the phone. Now.”

Ross had no idea what Barry might have said. He handed the phone to Jared, knowing the man’s anger would only get worse if Ross fought.

“What’s this?” 

“I don’t know,” Ross’s voice was a whisper.

“Barry wants to come get you so you can spend the night at his house?”

 _Oh God._ “I…he just thinks…”

“What does he think?”

“He thinks…that you…that you…”

“That I what?”

“That…you hurt me sometimes.”

“Yeah? Does he? And he’s gonna make it all better by having you come over to sleep with him, huh?”

“I told him no. I told him I didn’t want to.”

Jared picked up the tiny glass bird that had been a present from Holly and threw it into the wall. Coloured pieces flew everywhere and Ross flinched. 

“Jared, I _swear_ \- ”

“You worthless backstabbing little piece of shit. Lying right to my face. I’ll fucking teach you.”

And he lunged at Ross, his fist moving at a speed Ross would not have believed.

Ross found himself on the floor, dazed. His eye throbbed. When he tried to sit up, something _crunch_ ed, and it took him a second to register that it was his cheek. He raised his hands to protect his face and the next fist landed in his concave stomach. 

He screamed. And screamed. Jared knelt above him, throwing his punches down, screaming insults the whole time. Ross’s lip split open again. So did his eyebrow, which streamed blood into his eye and burned. His nose was bleeding too, or maybe it was snot. He was crying, fucking sobbing, barely able to get a breath in. 

When Jared tired of punching him, he stood up and kicked Ross so hard in the chest that the world went white for a while, like fog, or smoke. When it cleared Ross was in a world of terrible, burning pain. Ross gasped for air and it felt like someone was stabbing him in the chest.

 _My ribs_ , he thought in a panic. He tried to take shallower breaths but he couldn’t. His heart was beating way too quickly.

“Had enough, slut?”

“Yes!” Ross managed to groan. “Please, please Jared, please stop, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It won‘t happen again, I promise.”

“So you admit it? You cheated on me?”

“No!”

“I can’t trust a word you say. Get the fuck up.”

“I…don’t know if I can w-walk…”

“Then I’ll fucking drag you. I said _get up._ ”

Ross practically crawled up the stairs, his chest on fire, his face a mess of tears and blood. He didn’t know how bad it was. He didn’t want to know. He was afraid Jared was going to kill him. He was afraid because that almost sounded good. At least the pain would stop.

In the bedroom now, Ross’s room, where there was a picture of Ross and Jared together at the beach smiling. It clattered noisily to the ground when Jared pushed Ross onto the bed, _hard_ , so hard the whole bed moved.

“Please,” Ross hiccupped. “Please don’t make me. Please. I think - I think you broke a rib.”

“Shut up. I’m so sick of listening to you whine.” Jared’s rough hands yanked his clothing off.

“Stop,” Ross gasped as he was stripped, “Jared, stop, please, I can’t breathe.”

“You talk a whole fucking lot for someone who can’t breathe. Now keep your mouth shut unless you want me to go in dry.”

He wasn’t kidding and Ross knew it. Ross went limp, weak, pliable. It was the only way out, the only thing he could do. 

The doorbell rang. Jared didn’t react.

Ross stared at the ceiling through a blur of tears and promised himself that it would be over soon, it would be over soon, it would all be fine and Jared would love him again.

The doorbell rang again, and again. 

Then Ross’s phone began to go off. Jared suddenly looked unsure of himself. His eyes shot towards his pants crumpled on the floor. He’d put Ross’s phone in his pocket.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

The doorbell rang a fourth time. And then a series of rings in a row, frantic and angry.

Shouting from the patio. The living room window was open, helping to carry the sound.

“I know you’re both home. I know Ross is in there. If you don’t answer the door I’m calling the police.”

Ross was almost so far gone he couldn’t recognize Barry’s voice until he saw the hatred on Jared’s face. 

“Stay here,” Jared told Ross roughly. “Stay here and don’t you fucking move. I’ll go take care of this.”

Ross obeyed. He didn’t move. He didn’t think, or feel. There was only pain. Nothing mattered anymore. This was like a dream, and Ross was detached from it all. 

He heard the front door open. Jared’s pleasant voice, his old voice, floated up the stairs. “Barry, hey, sorry dude! We were just having a nap. Ross is still asleep.”

“No,” Barry said back, and that was it, no forced pleasantries from him. “I need to talk to Ross.”

“Sure, sure,” Jared said easily. “Why don’t I have him call you when he gets up?”

“I need to talk to Ross right now,” Barry repeated himself, his anger showing beneath the calm. 

Barry might have taken a step forward, or indicated that he was going to come inside, because there was a shuffling noise and then Jared hurriedly said, “Whoa, whoa dude, what the fuck, you can’t just walk into my house.”

“ _Your_ house?” Barry repeated. “Yours, is that right?”

“Barry, hey, hey dude come on - ”

“I didn’t come alone,” Barry told him. “You see who I brought?”

Ross couldn’t, but evidently Jared could.

“Get out.” The pretty shiny lacquer on Jared’s voice was rubbing away. “Get the fuck out, you can’t just barge in here, what the fuck - ”

“You don’t want to raise your hands at me.” Barry’s control was starting to break, too. “You can try to hit me, but it won’t end well for you.”

Scuffling. The squeak of a shoe on hardwood. A bang. Jared yelling. A louder bang, like a body had just collided with the wall. 

_This is it. This is the end._ The end of what? Ross closed his eyes, disobeyed Jared by covering himself with the blanket. His heart was beating so fast. He hated the sound of conflict. Some part of him knew he should help, maybe yell something down the stairs, maybe call Barry’s name. _Scream, scream for help, they’ll come for you, they’re here, it’s over…_

But Jared would be so mad. Jared would…he would…

His chest was tight. His vision was doubling. Ross sucked in a breath and whimpered out loud. It felt like something was stabbing him in the lung. The pain was getting worse. 

“Oh my God,” a voice said, and Ross opened his eyes and saw Barry standing in his doorway, a hand over his mouth. 

“Barry…”

“Hold on. Hold on, Ross.” Barry ran into the en-suite bathroom and came out with a damp facecloth. He knelt on the bed next to Ross and began to gently mop the blood from his face. Ross, embarrassed, tried to turn away, to hide, but there was nowhere to go. He knew he looked a pathetic mess. 

“Oh Ross,” Barry sounded like he was crying. “Your face…your poor little face….”

Ross tried to sit up so he’d be less of a helpless mess, but the pain that shot through him was too much to handle. He sank back against the pillows, gasping.

Barry had seen that he was naked beneath the blanket. He looked faintly sick. “Did Jared…did he…”

“He didn’t,” Ross whispered. “He was going to but he didn’t.”

“Just now. After beating the shit out of you.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, Ross….” Barry blinked hard and Ross saw the moisture clinging to his eyelashes. He stroked Ross’s hair, and that was it, just that simple gesture of concern after Ross was used to being treated like a burden - it made Ross’s face crumple, his own tears starting to flow.

“It’s okay,” Barry whispered, but it wasn’t fucking okay. None of this was okay. Ross cried until Barry’s chest was soaking wet and he couldn’t physically cry anymore. When he lifted his head, his friends were there. Arin and Dan and Brian, all there for him. Ross felt his chest constrict. 

“He needs to go to the hospital,” Barry told them. 

Arin’s eyes flashed a dark and ugly anger as he looked at Ross’s bruised and bloody face. “Should we call an ambulance?”

Ross found his voice. “No, it’s not - it’s not urgent. I…think I just have a broken rib.” 

Dan sat carefully on the far end of the bed, looking faint. “What happened?”

It was so hard to tell the truth. He’d been lying for so long. He had to fight to get the words out and he couldn’t look at Dan or anyone when he finally said, “Jared kicked me in the chest really hard.”

Dan turned white. 

“He’s going to fucking pay for this,” Arin muttered, and turned as if to run for the door. 

“Hey,” Brian said, grabbing at Arin’s wrist. “We talked about this. Chasing Jared won’t help. Getting yourself arrested won’t help, and it’ll only cast doubt on Ross’s story if Ross presses charges against Jared.”

Ross’s stomach fluttered. _Press charges against Jared?_

Barry must have seen the look on Ross’s face. “We can talk about that later.” He brushed the hair from Ross’s forehead. “We’ll drive you to the emergency room.”

“Will you stay with me?” Ross whispered, terrified to be alone, terrified of Jared coming back.

“I’ll stay with you as long as you need me to.”

Ross did his best to nod.

“Do you need help getting dressed?” Barry asked.

The realization came over their faces as they all noticed Ross’s bare torso, Ross’s bare legs sticking out from the blanket. Dan turned from white to green and bolted into the bathroom. Ross could hear him throwing up.

“Can it just be you,” Ross whispered to Barry. “I don’t want everyone to see…” He didn’t want Barry to see him either - broken and humiliated and stark naked - but he also couldn’t go to the ER like this.

“Just me,” Barry agreed, looking to Brian, who stood up immediately and went to the bathroom, presumably to check on Dan. Arin, still shaking with anger, went to stand outside in the hall.

Barry found clean clothes for him. He helped Ross sit on the edge of the bed and slid a pair of boxers up his legs, then a pair of soft sweatpants. Ross couldn’t lift his arms, so Barry searched in his closet for a button-down. 

“I don’t know if I have anything besides T-shirts in there,” Ross mumbled.

Without question, Barry took off his flannel shirt and put it on Ross instead.

“I’ll bleed on it,” Ross tried to protest, but Barry didn’t mind. The cut on his lip had stopped bleeding, and he thought his nose had too, but it was the split eyebrow that kept dripping no matter how much pressure was applied to it. Barry taped a piece of gauze to it before they left. 

Ross took comfort in the scent of Barry’s shirt on his body as he was led down to Barry’s waiting car. He kept waiting for Jared to come around a corner, scowling at Ross, insults dripping from his sneering lips. But Jared was nowhere to be found. His car was gone from the driveway. Ross wondered briefly where he was and then decided that he didn’t care. 

“You’re safe,” Barry told him. “He’s not going to hurt you ever again. We won’t let him.”

“I’ll twist his fucking head off,” Arin said.

“Not if I get there first,” Brian added. 

Dan just hugged him carefully, not wanting to jostle Ross’s hurt chest. Ross glanced briefly at Dan’s face and had to look away with guilt when he saw Dan crying.

The drive was a blur. So was the long wait in the ER. Ross still felt like he was in a dream. Maybe he’d come to and find himself with Jared again, on the bed, waiting to die. Maybe he’d wake up and find Jared smiling at him, telling him that it had all been just a big long nightmare, and that he loved him. 

True to their word, his friends stayed with him, Barry holding his right hand and Arin holding his left as they sat on either side of him. Ross squeezed them whenever his anxiety became too strong, and they both squeezed back to let him know they were there for him.

Up again, and through the familiar double doors, onto an examination table. Barry unbuttoned his shirt for him and told him that it was going to be okay.

Ross recognized the nurse that came to examine him. She wore a soft smile and asked permission before touching Ross.

Three neat stitches in his eyebrow. A shot of painkiller. An X-ray for his chest, where the nurse confirmed that Ross had two cracked ribs. Ross was so used to hospitals and nurses and doctors that it all felt routine. But instead of going home this time, the nurse sat with him and Barry and showed them how low Ross’s blood pressure was. He had lost more weight than he thought.

“I’d like to keep you overnight for observation,” she said kindly. “We’ll get some fluids in you too.”

Ross was frightened. He looked at Barry mutely. He didn’t want to be alone in this place. He hated needles, he hated being poked and prodded. 

“I’ll stay with you,” Barry promised. “You won’t be alone. I promise. I’ll stay with you as long as you want me to.”

“Okay,” Ross whispered. He nodded to the nurse. “Okay.”

“It’s going to get better,” Barry said. “I promise, Ross. We’re all here for you. We love you. And we won’t let you get hurt ever again.”

It sounded nice. Ross gave him a little ghost of a smile.

But inside, all he could think about was Jared, kissing his bruises or the handprint on his cheek, telling him, _Never again, Ross. I love you. I’ll never do it again._


	3. Chapter 3

Ross felt a little better in the morning when he woke to find Barry still there, just like he said he would be. Even the terrible hospital breakfast couldn’t put a damper on the little spark of hope in his heart.

“You didn’t stay the night,” Ross said, hardly daring to phrase it as a question.

Barry blinked at him. “Of course I did. I promised I would.”

 _Promise_ was a slippery word. He couldn’t fathom why Barry would want to sleep in a stiff straight-backed chair in such a depressing room. Despite his smile, he was probably annoyed at Ross causing such an inconvenience. “Sorry,” Ross said, casting his eyes down.

“For what?” Barry was bemused. 

Ross was saved from answering by the nurse coming to take his tray. He fell silent as she swept the crumbs from the table and asked if they’d like the curtains open for some sunshine. It took him a second to realize she was talking to him, not Barry.

“Sorry,” he said again. “Yes, please.”

The nurse went to the window and let the morning light in. The ugly little room became infinitely more cheery.

“We can take your IV out soon,” she told Ross. “We’ll do a quick physical exam, and we’ll take some blood for testing, and then hopefully you can be home before lunch.”

Ross wanted to quip, _If the lunch is anything like that breakfast, I hope so too,_ but old habits died hard, and he held his tongue like he’d been taught so well to do. Instead he nodded and tried not to scratch at the little piece of tape that held the needle in place on the back of his hand. 

“You’re almost done here,” Barry encouraged, as Ross stared listlessly out of the window. “You’re almost home.”

Ross didn’t reply.

Some part of him knew that he ought to be grateful. Barry had saved him from a lot of horror, maybe even saved his life.

And yet Ross wasn’t ready for this chapter of his life to be over so quickly. He didn’t know how to live without Jared anymore. It didn’t feel real that he’d be going home to an empty house.

Barry was still going on, talking gently, but Ross didn’t catch one word in ten. His mind was elsewhere. He was thinking of how awful he must look, his lip still fat and puffy, his eyebrow mottled purple around the puckered stitches. All he had to put on once he changed out of his hospital gown was Barry’s loaned shirt and the sweatpants that were two sizes too big. Jared didn’t like him looking sloppy. Jared would be…but no, Jared wasn’t there. Ross didn’t have to worry about looking nice, about making dinner when he felt too sick to eat himself. But what else was there? What used to occupy his mind besides Jared?

He was pathetic. Even the nurses here felt sorry for him. It was humiliating to think that all his friends saw him at his lowest, saw him lying naked in bed, bruised and bloody, that they all knew what happened and were probably talking about it amongst themselves right now.

“Hey, hey,” Barry was saying. “Ross, why are you crying? Is it your ribs? Do you want me to get the nurse?”

“I don’t really feel anything,” Ross lied. “Was I crying?”

Barry’s eyebrows knitted with concern as he nodded.

_You’re thirty years old. Act like it._

Ross gathered the shards of himself stiffly. He looked out the window again and closed his eyes. “I don’t really remember.”

**

Barry drove him home just after two PM. He made a quick stop at his own house - Ross stayed in the car with the company of his phone - and came back in less than five minutes with a hastily-packed overnight bag.

Ross’s hospital discharge came later than expected, owing to a dizzy spell that made him barely able to sit up to have his blood drawn. They only took two vials, but Ross became suddenly and violently sick on the floor just as they were taking the needle out. They gave him a cookie and a glass of juice and sounded like bored actors reading from a script when they told him he did very well.

The first thing Barry did, after making Ross a sandwich with the meagre supplies in his fridge, was call somebody to come change the locks on the front and back door. Jared still had a set of keys. Then he went through Ross’s bedroom and boxed up all of Jared’s things.

Ross couldn’t watch him do it. Jared had warned him so often against touching his stuff that the idea made him anxious. Walking by on his way to the bathroom, Ross caught a glimpse of Barry pulling Jared’s shirts from a drawer, holding them between two fingers like they were contaminated with something filthy.

Later, Barry went to the grocery store and came back laden with food. He made dinner for the two of them, Ross nibbling at his plate to be polite and answering Barry’s questions with one-word answers. As the day drew to an end, Ross began to feel uncomfortable, hollow, insignificant. 

Jared had become his life, his everything. Now he was gone, and what was Ross now? An animator who hadn’t produced anything in months, an aspiring showrunner who could hardly remember his own characters, a weak shell of himself. It seemed he couldn’t hold onto anything. 

Barry did the dishes while Ross sat on the couch and stared at the TV. Barry brought him a blanket and tucked it around him.

“You’re shivering,” he said gently. “You want me to turn on the heat?”

“Sure.”

“Maybe a hot drink would warm you up. You have tea, you want me to put the kettle on?”

“Sure.”

“Ross…”

Ross turned his head and looked at him, emotionless, waiting. Barry rubbed his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket. “Never mind,” he said. “Never mind. You get some rest.”

“Sure.” Ross looked back at the TV. He was being a horrible friend and wondered why he didn‘t care more. Barry had done so much for him.

Arin called, but Ross let it go to voicemail. He listened to the message. Arin wanted to come over to spend the night, an extra safety measure. Ross texted back that Barry was already going to be sleeping on the couch and it probably wouldn’t be big enough for both of them.

 _I can sleep on the floor if I have to,_ Arin replied, and Ross didn’t text him back. He was still embarrassed at the state his friends had seen him in. In time the sting would fade and he’d have Arin over again. But for now…

As he looked at his phone, Ross stared at Jared’s name in his contact list for a very long time. He should call - but no, what kind of a thought was that?

 _I miss him,_ Ross thought. _I hate him and I miss him and I want him dead but I want him back._ It was a thought he could never express to anyone, not even Barry,

Ross waited until Barry was asleep on the couch and pulled out his phone to watch Jared’s Youtube channel. The sight of Jared’s face made his stomach revolt and he ended up keeled over the bathroom counter fighting not to throw up all the healthy food Barry had been so proud to see him eat. And _still_ he went back for more, looked at Jared’s Twitter, his Instagram.

 _He doesn’t even miss me,_ Ross thought as he stared at the happy selfies Jared had posted just the day before. _He doesn’t even care._

Tears burned behind his eyelids and Ross felt a sickening rush of self-hatred. He blinked savagely. He would _not_ cry over Jared. He would not.

There was a photo on his phone, taken a year ago almost to the day. Ross and Jared at the beach, Ross holding cotton candy and wearing a big grin. Jared with his lips on Ross’s cheek. 

He could remember that day so clearly. The smell of French fries and popcorn from the food truck, eating a funnel cake, Jared rubbing coconut sunscreen lotion on his back and shoulders. How calm the ocean was, the waves lapping gently at the shore. The way Jared had wanted to take pictures of him with his bare feet in the water. Jared convincing a couple of cute hippie girls walking by to take one of him and Ross kissing as the sea foam rushed between their legs and wet the bottoms of their rolled-up jeans.

 _What happened?_ Ross wondered, and the more he thought, the more confused he became. _What did I do wrong?_

Because Jared was never like that before, was he? For all his life he’d been normal. Ross knew a good deal of Jared’s friends and everyone agreed that he was a genuinely nice person. His ex-girlfriend spoke of him warmly. Was there something about Ross that brought out the other side?

He should call Jared.

He almost did.

Reaching for his phone, Ross thought of the way Jared had almost raped him as he lay screaming in pain on the bed they shared. He thought about the funny crunching sound in his head when Jared’s fist met his eye.

But then he thought of Jared holding him, Jared playing video games with him until three in the morning, Jared talking wistfully of marriage one day.

_Call him. Tell him you’re sorry, he’ll forgive you, he’ll love you again._

Ross felt sick at himself.

There was a bottle of rum in the pantry. Ross suddenly thirsted for it with an intensity that might have alarmed him if he were in a better state of mind. He tiptoed down the stairs and listened for the sound of Barry’s deep breathing from the couch. Ross knew all the places where the floor creaked and danced expertly around them to reach the kitchen.

At first he thought a shot might do. It would quiet the noise in his head, help him sleep. But after it went down and Ross waited, feeling nothing, he decided to do another. He gulped from the bottle until he almost threw up in his mouth, and then he poured some directly into an open Coke bottle in the fridge and took it upstairs with him. 

By the time sleep claimed him, the whirling thoughts in his head had stilled and blissful numbness set in. 

**

The morning was not so blissful.

Ross finally got out of bed at noon and stumbled into the shower, his head aching more fiercely than his fractured ribs, his stomach groaning feebly. His heart was in his throat as he stood beneath the spray, half-convinced that Barry was going to yell at him when he went downstairs. Because surely, Barry had tried to check on him in the morning. He must have seen the bottle of rum on the counter and deduced the obvious reason for Ross’s stupor. 

It had been a stupid thing to do. Even stupider for someone with cracked ribs and hypotension and a score of other health issues. Ross felt a keen sense of shame and self-loathing. 

Barry was sitting in his kitchen when he finally came downstairs. Ross avoided his eyes and tried to slink past him, wishing he could shrivel up into a ball.

“Hey,” Barry said quietly.

Ross’s heart began to beat faster. He tensed, ready for the confrontation. “Hi.” 

But Barry didn’t seem upset at all. He looked relaxed, if a little tired. “There’s food in the fridge,” was all he said. “Just some rice and chicken, but if that sounds like too much, I bought saltine crackers yesterday.”

“Rice and chicken?” Ross pictured a little box of take-out, a cardboard container with little packs of soy sauce on top.

“It’s nothing fancy. I hope you don’t mind me going through your cupboards, but I wanted to make something and I needed a deep baking dish.”

“You _made_ it?” Ross, in his surprise, actually made eye contact.

Barry shrugged. “Like I said, it’s nothing much. Chicken thighs and chicken stock, white rice, some onion. It’s better when I can let the chicken marinate in the rub overnight, but I was so tired I didn’t think of it. The rice will be easy on your stomach.”

Ross blinked and reached for the carefully wrapped plate. “You made this for me,” he said again, wondrously. 

“It’s not too heavy for your stomach?” 

Ross didn’t know how to respond. He didn’t know what to think. Clearly Barry knew he was hung over, but he didn’t seem mad, only concerned. In Ross’s experience, the more delayed the yelling was, the worse it would be when it got there.

“Shouldn’t we talk?” he asked.

Barry set his mug down on the table and met Ross’s eyes frankly. There was no bullshit with Barry, never had been. “About the booze? We should, yeah. But I thought you should probably eat something first.”

Ross nodded. He didn’t feel hungry, exactly, but his whole body felt strangely slow and sludgy. When he took his plate out of the microwave, the smells of butter and garlic made him perk up.

“This smells amazing,” he said honestly. His head still hurt but the nausea had subsided in the shower. “Thank you.”

Barry’s smile lent some warmth to his tired face. “No problem. Eat as much as you can. I won’t be offended if you can’t finish. The leftovers will keep pretty well.”

Ross began to eat, slowly at first, chewing each bite carefully. It tasted wonderful. As his stomach began to fill, it realized just how badly it needed the nourishment, and Ross found himself eating ravenously. His fork scraped every last grain of rice from the plate and he had to ask if there was another piece of chicken left. Barry directed him to the large container full of leftovers.

“So is this like a pity thing?” Ross asked when he’d finished eating.

Barry’s eyebrows rose. “What?”

“The lunch, the babysitting me, the way you’re not calling me out about getting drunk the night after being released from the hospital.”

“I made lunch for myself, too. And I’m here because I want to be here.”

“You’re being so nice to me.”

“Well,” Barry said, “I like to think I’m a nice person?”

“Yeah, well.” Ross shrugged. “I don’t really deserve it.”

“Why not?”

Ross snorted. “Look at me. I’m pathetic.”

Barry looked up sharply. “Hey.”

Ross laughed without humour. “I let some guy who weighs less than I do use me for a punching bag for the last six months.”

“Ross…”

“And then I almost called him last night to apologize,” Ross said. “If that’s not pathetic I don’t know what is.”

Now Barry sounded a little upset. “You’re not pathetic.”

“I am, though. I wanted to hear his voice.” Ross’s throat tightened. “I miss him. That’s fucked up, isn’t it?”

Barry said, “You’re allowed to have fucking feelings, Ross. It doesn’t make you less of a person, and no matter what you say, I’m not gonna agree with you when you put yourself down like that.”

Ross swallowed and gathered himself. “Noted,” he said. “Sorry.”

“You want to talk about what made you miss him?”

“I just…remembered the good times, I guess. We were so good together at first. He wasn’t always like - how he became. And even after the problems started, he was sometimes so sweet in between. I loved him.”

“He always had a temper,” Barry said. “I don’t know if a lot of people knew. Way back in the day, when I was still living with Jon, I remember seeing Jared flip out at a gas station attendant. Not just arguing, but flat-out screaming at this guy. I felt uncomfortable. Jon and I avoided him all night. It was so unlike him that I guess I just pushed it to the back of my mind. I always knew him to be such a calm, happy guy.”

Ross nodded. He knew that Jared could flip on and off like a switch “When I got my concussion, he was yelling on the phone to someone at AT&T. He just - it’s like he blanks out, becomes someone else. He didn’t even see me standing there when he started throwing things.”

Barry looked pained, but he was listening. Ross continued.

“It seemed like that side of him just got worse and worse. But he still loved me. He’d hit me and then apologize and make it up to me. It seemed like the longer we were together, the more I brought out the ugliness in him.”

“Don’t say that. You did nothing wrong, Ross.”

“But why me?” Ross asked, quiet and plaintive. “Remember his ex Heidi? She said he never yelled at her, not even once. And then I came along, and - well. The only thing that changed in his life was me.”

“Heidi might have been lying, or hiding the truth.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Still,” Barry said, refusing to be drawn down that path. “Anyone who can hurt their partner that badly has something sick and deranged inside them that was already there. Maybe it was really well hidden at first, but that sickness was there. Long before you dated him.” 

“Maybe,” Ross said, not fully believing it.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, why not?”

“I think I already know the answer to this, but he was the one who broke your arm and your finger, right?”

Ross chewed on his lip. “Yes.”

“Do you want to talk about how that happened?”

“He pushed me down the stairs.” The words sounded strange to say out loud. “My arm got twisted under me. And he broke my finger because I didn’t want to have sex.”

Barry winced. “He didn’t still make you - ”

“No, he drove me to the hospital.” But Ross knew what Barry was really asking. “But there were other times when he…when he didn’t take no for an answer.”

“What happened that day we found you?” Before Ross could answer, he hurried to add, “I don’t want to make you re-live it. You don’t have to answer. I just remember getting this awful feeling in my stomach after the two of you left. I knew there was something wrong.”

Ross didn’t want to say, but he didn’t want to lie to Barry. “He could tell I was feeling guilty about something. I ended up telling him that you had confronted me about the things he was doing to me. He’s always been - weirdly aggressive about you, almost jealous. And then you sent me that text…”

Something strange had come over Barry’s expression. “Did he see it?”

“He made me give him the phone.” Ross looked at his feet. “He looked through it all the time. He heard it go off and he wouldn’t let me look at it and it was you, asking me to come to your place.”

Barry’s voice came ragged. “And then he beat you up.”

Ross said nothing.

Barry said, “Because of me.”

Ross looked at him, startled. “No, it wasn’t your fault, you didn’t know - ”

Barry’s chair scraped noisily against the floor as he stood up quickly. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

It was lucky Ross had a half-bathroom on the main level. Barry still barely made it. Ross stood awkwardly in his kitchen and listened to the sounds of Barry throwing up noisily.

His own stomach did a flip. Ross sat down and put his head on the table, taking deep even breaths.

“Oh shit, I didn’t think - I should have gone upstairs - the noise - ”

“It’s fine,” Ross said. “I’m fine. Just - give me a second.”

Barry gave him as much time as he needed. He filled the kettle and found the box of green-ginger tea in Ross’s cupboard.

When Ross’s brief nausea faded, Barry stirred honey into the tea and placed one mug in front of him. “How’s your chest feeling?”

“Pretty good.” Ross was tough when he wanted to be. “I took some Tylenol earlier. I’m just sore.”

“Good.” Barry blew on his tea. Then he said, more quietly, “How do you feel about talking to the police about Jared?”

Ross sucked in a breath. “Fucking terrified.”

“You want to talk about it, or do you want me to drop it?”

Ross appreciated the choice. “Drop it,” he said, but softened this by adding, “For now. Maybe - maybe later, I can - but then I’d have to tell so many people, strangers, and I just can’t - ”

“I understand,” Barry said. “No matter what, though, you have a lot of friends willing to help you.”

“I know. And it means a lot.”

“Speaking of friends, everyone wants to see you. No pressure, but you’re invited - pretty much everywhere, really.”

“You didn’t…” Ross faltered. “You didn’t…tell anyone else, right? Or did anyone say something to…” Jirard or Austin, any of the guys in the Grumps’ and Jared’s shared social circle.

“No,” Barry said. “We wouldn’t. Not unless you wanted us to. Totally your call, dude.”

“That means a lot, too.” Ross, with his stubborn streak, hated the idea of people talking about him as if he couldn’t take care of shit on his own. Barry knew him well enough to know _that_. Barry knew him better than most of his friends, maybe even better than Arin, although Arin had known him longer. Barry had always been quietly perceptive, keenly sensitive to others’ emotions, good at analyzing a situation without prying and responding in the most appropriate manner. Ross had always gone to him whenever he needed to vent. Barry had been the first person he called after Holly had left, and it was Barry who held him while he cried.

It occurred to him how much he’d missed being close with Barry. He missed all of his friends. Everything he’d done in the past year had been with Jared.

Eventually he said, “I should probably try to make time for the others. I think they deserve to know what’s going on.”

“Just let me know when, and I’ll get out of your hair so you guys can have some time to yourselves.”

“I think I need another day. At least. And maybe, I could try - going back to work soon, too. I’d like to. It feels weird not to have a routine.” He was sore but not crippled; he could easily sit at a desk and work.

Barry said, “Take all the time you need. Do you still want me to stay with you?”

“Yes,” Ross said, and then, firmly, “But - if you don’t think it’s too weird - would you mind - sleeping in my room with me? I don’t want to do something stupid again.”

“My back would be very thankful.” There was something nervous in Barry’s grin, but he hid it well. “Your couch isn’t the comfiest for sleeping.”

“Holly took the good one with her when she moved out.” Ross hadn’t meant that to sound sad. His heart hurt a little bit, to remember the good times with Holly.

He was glad that Barry took it in stride and changed the subject easily. “Hey, you mind if I have a shower here?”

“Go right ahead. I’ll just play some games, I think.”

Ross felt a little nostalgic, and craved familiarity. He rooted around in his closet for the dusty N64. He played Mario Kart to the sound of the water running upstairs, and managed to do well enough to feel confident challenging Barry to a match when he came down, his hair wet and his clothes sticking to him. He smelled like Ross’s Irish Spring soap.

Barry won, of course. Ross came in second last and cursed Barry colourfully. 

“You were really good,” Barry said, courteous as ever. “You’ve gotten better since we last played.”

“It was all Toad’s fault. He knocked me off the course. Otherwise, I would have won.”

“Sure, of course.”

“You took my green shell right up your ass on the first lap, wasn’t that awesome?”

“A total accident.”

“My impeccable aim is no accident.”

“Prove it.”

“How?”

“Battle mode?” Barry suggested.

Ross, to his surprise, found himself smiling. “You’re on.”


	4. Chapter 4

His room was a mess. 

Ross wound his way around the clothes on the floor, grappling with the distractions piling up in his head. His bathroom wasn’t as bad, mostly because Barry had been cleaning it. Still, it bothered him. 

It was funny how the small things had a way of taking over his head. The dark circles under his eyes, the stiffness in his neck from sleeping propped up to ease the pain in his ribs. The mass of texts and emails and missed calls from all his friends. The clutter in his room. So many little things, and since Ross couldn’t figure out which to focus on first, nothing was ever done.

His days had settled into a routine. Barry would make breakfast, and Ross would try to talk a little more about Jared, until his memories grew too painful and he had to stop. Then they’d play games or watch a movie, and Barry would go to work for a half-day and be home in time for dinner. 

Ross was, by nature, a hard-working person. This life was a difficult thing to adjust to. He felt like he was drifting, stuck in suspended animation, and he had the uncomfortable feeling that this life could be very addicting. No pressure, no deadlines. Just sleep and food and the comfortable companionship of Barry.

“I want to go back to work,” he told Barry over a dinner of spaghetti smothered in ground beef, tomato sauce, and parmesan cheese. 

It was one of the few meals Ross could make well. Barry seemed to be enjoying it. He hadn’t been as fond of the fairy bread Ross had made in the morning, for some reason.

“Here, or at the office?” Barry asked.

“The office.”

“I can drive you tomorrow,” Barry offered. “I’m going in early, though. Early for you, I mean.”

“I don’t always sleep until noon.”

“I know.”

“I really should probably get back on a normal person schedule,” Ross said. “My ribs are healing. And my blood pressure is a little better. Still not normal, exactly, but a lot better. There’s no reason why I shouldn’t be working.”

Barry ate in silence for a few moments. Then he said, “Speaking of doctors - ”

“Hey, um. Can we not talk about that just yet?”

Barry just closed his mouth and nodded.

Ross knew what Barry wanted to say. He’d brought it up the other night, when they settled into bed. Ross had pushed the idea away, promising to talk about it later. It seemed he still wasn’t ready. God, he could barely talk about it to himself. 

“This parmesan is really good.” Trust Barry to pull off an about-face like that and come off sincere. “Really makes a difference when it’s fresh.”

“I like the kind that comes in a little shaker a lot better, but I figured I’d go the extra mile.”

Barry chuckled. “I appreciate it. You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cook.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice since Jared moved in.” 

“He didn’t cook much?” Barry asked, carefully.

“He complained how much I spent on take-out and fast food.” Ross twirled his fork idly, knowing full well why Barry’s smile had faded. 

“It’s your money,” Barry said, quietly. “How you spend it should be up to you.”

“Okay. I appreciate that, but - not everything he did was wrong, you know? People in relationships who live together do have to look out for stuff like that. If your partner has, a fuckin’ gambling addiction or something, you don’t just say, oh well, it’s your money.”

“Definitely not the same thing, Ross. I’m sure you weren’t bankrupting yourself from Taco Bell.”

“Well, no, but - renovating the studio, that cost thousands, and it wasn’t really necessary because I have the Grump space, and it’s not like I couldn’t just set up my art stuff anywhere in the house.” Ross realized he was echoing Jared almost word for word. His mouth snapped shut.

Barry didn’t pursue it, just nodded and, “I think your studio is awesome.”

“Thanks,” Ross said lightly. He frowned as he thought about how often he used that renovated space, how big and homey it was, how it had been his home when Jared had friends over and Ross felt too tired of Jared’s constant jealousy to go and socialize.

He was still thinking about it as he went out into the living room after supper and reclined carefully, using his bathrobe as a blanket. He was always cold. He was starting to feel a little like Dan, waddling around everywhere at work in a blanket whenever somebody turned on the AC. His bottle of extra-strength Tylenol rattled from some pocket. Ross fished it out and took two.

Barry poked his head in a little while later. Ross’s Tylenol had kicked in and his chest only ached if he coughed. His eyelids felt heavy and he offered Barry a sleepy smile.

“I’m gonna run out and grab toilet paper,” Barry said. “You need anything?”

“Hookers and blow,” Ross said, too sated and lazy to come up with anything clever.

It still made Barry grin. “I don’t think I’ll find either of those at Trader Joe’s.”

“How about Pop Tarts?”

“Now that I can do.” 

**

Being at the Grump space gave Ross mixed feelings. 

He felt at home here, as he always did, and there was a comfort in finding his office exactly how he’d left it - a tiny little refuge in the big studio space, filled with Ross’s things. 

But picking up where he left off, and seeing just how little he’d accomplished in the past few months - the time when things had gone from kind of shitty to really fucking bad - didn’t exactly make him feel great. He hated being behind on his work. He hated that he’d let somebody do this to him, distract him from his dreams.

The whole space was a minefield. The fridge was mysteriously stocked with all of Ross’s favourite things. There was a tin of cookies shaped like cats, the icing clearly Arin’s artistic work, left out conspicuously where Ross would find it. 

The gifts frustrated him, because they were nice, and he appreciated them, but Ross didn’t want to go to work every day and be reminded that everyone knew. But what was he supposed to say? _Hey, you guys, can you all stop being so fucking nice to me?_

Matt and Ryan didn’t know the whole story, only that Ross had been recovering from an injury, so they acted pretty much as they always did. Ross found that the best of all. He spent more time in the editing bay with them than he did with the others. It was easier than having to deal with the way the others were walking on eggshells around him.

Ryan, clearly out of the loop, asked after Jared. Dan, who had been within earshot, actually gasped. Ross felt the first flicker of annoyance and glared at him. Dan dropped his head and pulled out his phone, trying and failing to look inconspicuous.

“We broke up,” Ross said shortly. 

“Oh, sorry dude.” Ryan patted his arm. “What happened?”

Another little noise from Dan.

“He was a jerk,” Ross said.

Ryan nodded. “Yeah. I always thought he kind of looked like Big Bird anyway.”

Ross burst into a peal of laughter that made his ribs start to ache again, but it was worth it. Ryan went off looking gratified but Dan seemed to melt into the couch when Ross walked away without looking at him.

It took a while for Ross to get back on track, but he soon found that creative itch in him again, and Game-o-verse became his world. He found Barry an excellent collaborator. He let Ross talk about work into the wee hours of the morning and offered his constructive advice fairly. 

Ross thought about asking him to talk to Dan, but dismissed it - it was his own battle, not Barry’s.

Because while the others eventually learned to treat Ross like a human being, Dan remained lost. He practically tiptoed past Ross’s office and spoke too quietly in his presence. Once or twice, Ross tried to irritate him, to tease him like he used to, but Dan would not rise to the bait. 

It was maddening. Ross’s pride would not suffer the obvious display of pity. It was also inevitable that an explosion was coming, for Ross had buried a lot of hate and resentment way down deep in his heart from his year with Jared, and each little stab of humiliation from Dan pushed him closer and closer to the breaking point.

Finally, in the Grump kitchen one day, Ross was rooting around in the fridge while Dan sat at a corner table eating fried dumplings. Ross couldn’t find anything that looked good and settled for a bottle of water. Dan was trying to be quiet, but Ross could feel him staring. Ross knew that Dan was just concerned - Ross was supposed to be eating often to put weight back on - but it didn’t sit well. He bit his tongue for as long as he could but eventually reached his breaking point.

“Do you want something? What are you staring at?” Ross whipped around.

Dan jumped like he’d been burned. “I wasn’t staring.”

“Do you think I’m stupid?” Ross demanded viciously. “Do you think I don’t notice you looking at me all the time?”

“I just.” Dan was gathering up the remains of his meal, his head bowed and his cheeks flushing. “I just, I was noticing, that you weren’t eating anything for lunch, again, and I…”

Ross could have told him about Barry’s cooking, how he actually ate breakfast with Barry every morning now. Instead he bristled and said sharply, “And how the hell is that any of your business?” 

“It’s not. I know it’s not, Ross, I’m only - I’m worried about you.” 

“Keep your fucking pity for someone who needs it. Do I fucking look like I need it?” It was like a dam had burst in his chest and all the pent-up rage from his year with Jared was pouring through. Everything he had locked down deep inside, the anger and the spite and the betrayal and the humiliation, was now flooding him, rushing through his veins, and it felt _good_ , like getting drunk. 

Dan opened his mouth, seemed to think better of it, and closed it again. “I’ll go,” he said quickly. “I’m sorry. I’ll leave you alone.”

“No!” Ross shouted at him.

He wanted to _fight_ , really fight, he wanted Dan to try and stand up for himself so Ross could tear him down. Because, by willingly admitting defeat, Dan only served to rub salt in his wounds. Then Ross would just be the asshole screaming at work, and Dan would be the puzzled little victim, innocent as always.

Dan froze in the doorway, looking trapped.

It seemed Ross wasn’t done shouting. “Stay out of my business, okay? Why are you even hanging around here so much? What happened to being _busy_?” And he knew that was a stupid thing to say. Dan wasn’t on tour anymore, he’d wrapped up all his NSP projects, and right now he was supposed to be here, filming and recording with Arin.

“I’m sorry,” Dan said instead of explaining himself. “I’m really sorry.”

Ross snorted. “Don’t give me that shit, you’re not sorry. Now you just want me to shut up because you’re too spineless to fight back. That, or you think I’m too fucking pathetic to take it.”

Okay, and now he’d pushed Dan to the brink of tears. “I just want you to get better,” he said. “I just want you to take care of yourself.”

Ross slammed the fridge hard enough to rattle the whole kitchen. “Next time you want to ask me whether or not I’ve got an eating disorder, do yourself a favour and stuff it. You have no idea what’s going on in my life, or how much I eat at home, because you’re too afraid to even talk to me half the time! I told all of you that I’m okay, I told you I didn’t want to make a big deal of this. Why can’t you fucking listen?”

It occurred to Ross then who he sounded like. He stopped, his mouth going dry.

And Dan, trying to soothe, not daring to say anything in his own defense - that was all too familiar, too.

“Fuck,” Ross croaked, and he turned to run.

And smacked right into Arin.

“Hey, whoa.” Arin backed away to arms’ length. “Uh, what’s going on here?”

Ross just shook his head. “Nothing. It’s fine. I just. I need to go.”

“Ross, I’m sorry,” Dan pleaded. “Ross?”

“Shut up. Just shut up.”

“Whoa,” Arin said again. “Guys, calm down, both of you. What the hell happened?”

“I’ll tell you tomorrow.” Ross’s face felt flushed. “You can ask Dan what happened. I’m getting out of here.”

“I didn’t mean to do anything,” said shell-shocked Dan. “Ross, please, I’m really sorry. Please don’t go.”

Ross saw himself reflected in Dan’s eyes and he couldn’t stand it anymore. He made a choked noise that might have been a sob and shoved past Arin, who was wise enough to know not to grab his arm to hold him back.

Barry could probably hear the yelling from his office. Ross didn’t want to see him right now. He didn’t want to see anybody. 

Ross slipped outside before anyone could see his face crumpling. He walked all the way home.

**

Barry called once, an hour after Ross got home, and Ross ignored it because he was really fucking great at being friends. He turned off his phone and huddled on the couch, cold, without a blanket or sweater as if he felt he had to punish himself with physical discomfort. He felt disgusted, humiliated, so sick of himself that he couldn’t stand it.

When Barry came in - he had Ross’s extra key - he didn’t force Ross to talk. He said, “Is it okay that I’m here?”

Ross shrugged. “Well, all your stuff’s here, what else are you supposed to do?”

That obviously wasn’t the answer Barry was looking for. But he went to the kitchen, and Ross listened the to clink of utensils as he made food. 

Eventually Ross shambled into the kitchen. Barry turned with a smile and said, “You hungry?”

“A little. Not really.”

“Think you can do a small bowl of mac and cheese? Not the boxed stuff. The real deal.”

Ross’s stomach made a little growl. “Actually, yeah.”

“Good. Just sit down, I’ll finish up.”

“Thanks,” Ross said, and did so.

“Arin wants to talk to you,” Barry said, setting a bowl in front of Ross. “He asked if he could stop by later.”

“Oh.”

“He said he tried calling you.”

“I had my phone off.”

“That’s okay,” Barry said. “You’ll call him back?”

“After I eat.”

“You want me to clear out if he comes by?”

Ross winced. “Yeah, if it’s not too much to ask….”

“It‘s fine. It’s not like I have nowhere to go.”

“It’s just. Work stuff, you know? He’s the boss, and I don’t know if he’s mad, or what.”

“I know, Ross. It’s fine. Really.”

Ross’s eyes suddenly felt strained and hot. He rubbed at them and said, “Fuck. Sometimes I really fucking hate myself.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Barry told him softly. “You’re under a lot of strain. Shit happens. Dan gets that. He’s not stupid.”

“I know.” A lump formed in Ross’s throat. “I sort of told him that he was, though. I said a lot of dumb shit to him.”

“He told me,” Barry admitted. 

“Does he hate me?”

“Nah. You just scared him a little. It’ll take more than that to piss off Dan. He doesn‘t stay mad at people. You’d need to kill a puppy or something for him to really hate you.”

“It was pretty bad.”

“You’ll fix it,” Barry said, with confidence.

All of a sudden, it was too much to handle. Ross closed his eyes. “Please stop being so goddamn nice to me. I don’t deserve it.”

Barry got up and came over to Ross. Ross didn’t open his eyes. He felt Barry’s presence in front of him.

“Can I hug you?” he asked quietly, and he waited until Ross nodded.

Barry’s hug was gentle, easy on Ross’s chest. Ross put his arms around Barry and took slow, deep breaths.

“You do deserve it,” Barry murmured. “You’ve worked really hard.”

“I wish I could believe that.”

Barry sighed. “You have no fucking idea how amazing you really are, do you?”

It wasn’t a question. Ross’s throat tightened and he hugged Barry as hard as he could without hurting himself. 

When they parted Ross said, throatily, “I’m gonna - call Arin back.”

“Good idea.”

“And I think I - I think, maybe, I’ll call that therapist you found. Make an appointment.”

Barry went very still. “Yeah?”

Ross met his eye. “Yeah. I think I need some help. Not that you’re not helpful enough, but like - I need to see somebody outside of all this.”

Barry exhaled. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Don’t make me cry, fuck.” Ross made a weird noise that might have been a laugh. 

There was a bit of wetness in Barry’s eyes too, but he smiled and said, “Wouldn’t want that. Listen, I’ll head out now, leave you alone for a bit. Unless you want - ?”

“No, yeah, that’s good. Thanks. You’ll be back though, right? For the night?”

“I’ll be here whenever you want me to be. And I don’t just mean today. I mean always.”

 _Always_ , Ross repeated to himself, and it didn’t seem as loose of a word coming from Barry as it had from Jared.

He collected himself as best as he could and turned on his phone to call Arin.


	5. Chapter 5

It was early evening in Ross’s quiet house, and Ross was feeling okay. Not a hundred percent, but maybe sixty. Maybe. He was watching TV on the couch while Barry floated around the kitchen, talking quietly on the phone, his words obscured by the little staccato pings of popcorn kernels bursting.

After a short time Barry came and sat next to him, close enough to be of comfort but far enough away to be polite and respect Ross’s space. He set a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table and took a handful for himself before nudging it over so it was within Ross’s reach. An offering, but also not an obligation; he had made it for himself, too, which took the pressure off of Ross. It was one of those talents Barry had, that he just knew exactly what to do in any given situation to make someone else feel at ease. Ross couldn’t express how much it meant to him.

“What are we watching?” Barry asked. 

“A commercial.” The screen currently showed some model dressed in a flimsy negligee holding a perfume bottle, regarding it with an expression that suggested she wanted to fuck it.

Barry huffed good naturedly. “You know what I meant.”

“It’s the NatGeo channel. Unlikely Animal Friends.” Ross reached for the popcorn. Barry had put some sort of sweet chili spice on it.

“That sounds like a good time.”

“Next up is a chicken and a two-legged Chihuahua.”

“Which two legs does it have? Front or back?”

“I’m not sure. I think the back ones.”

“Oh,” Barry said. “Does it walk upright it’s people?” 

Ross was startled into a real laugh. He sprayed his legs with popcorn crumbs. “Did you just reference _The Simpsons_?”

“Maybe,” Barry said comfortably.

“Were you even alive when that episode came out?”

“I’ll have you know that I was at _least_ three years old.”

“I was in _school_ when that came out. Like, year two.”

Barry gave him a puzzled look. “Year two?”

“It comes after year one.”

“Yeah, no, I got that much. I mean, what is that compared to normal school?”

Ross took another handful of popcorn. “America is not the standard of normal.”

“Well, I can’t fight you on that one,” Barry conceded.

The commercials were over. Ross watched the screen as a wheelchair-bound Chihuahua and a chicken that looked like a Muppet cavorted together in a yard.

“Holly loves those,” Ross said. “That type of chicken. Silkies, they’re called.”

“Yeah?”

“She always wanted one for a pet.” 

“She should get one,” Barry said. “I want to pet it.”

Ross rose to the occasion with some of his old humour. “You wanna stroke that big hairy cock?” he asked, and it wasn’t very funny but Barry gave him an amused and reminiscent look. Ross knew that Barry was remembering a day years ago when they had all gone to the petting zoo together.

“I would love to stroke that cock,” Barry answered amiably, and he smiled again when Ross did.

They had gotten through the whole story before Ross spoke again. “I haven’t talked to Holly in months.”

Barry was quiet, letting Ross take his time.

“I want to talk to her,” Ross admitted quietly. “I miss her so much. I want to see her again. I want to make sure she knows that I still love her even if I’ve been a bit of a douche lately. I want to tell her - everything that happened. With Jared. My therapist, she wants me to - to spend more time socializing and reconnecting with people outside of work.” 

Barry blinked at the sound of Jared’s name but all he said was, “Maybe you should give Holly a call.”

“I don’t know. She’s probably busy…”

“I think she’d love to hear from you, Ross.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I think I’ll call her tomorrow,” Ross said almost absently a while later at the next commercial break. 

And again, Barry knew just what to do. He didn’t make a big mushy scene or overwhelm him. He just leaned in and nudged his shoulder against Ross’s, a friendly suggestion of a hug. 

When Barry reached for more popcorn, Ross grabbed his hand impulsively and squeezed it. “I love you,” he said.

It wasn’t the first time Ross had told Barry that he loved him, but it didn’t happen often, and it hadn’t happened in a very long time. And it was rare for Ross, who was generally not a demonstratively affectionate person, to say it first.

Barry was surprised but pleased. “I love you too, Ross.”

Ross surprised even himself by curling up on his side, his head pillowed on Barry’s thigh. And after watching the next episode - featuring a warthog and a baby rhino - Barry’s arm settled lightly across Ross’s waist.

Ross ignored the wave of tingles beneath his skin, radiating outward from the point of contact. 

“How was your appointment?” Barry finally asked, after the show was over. He didn’t move his arm.

“I think it went okay. It was, a little weird. First session and everything.”

“But it sounds like she had some good advice.”

“Yeah. And she wasn’t pushy.”

“Not pushy is good.”

“Yeah,” Ross said.

“You wanna talk about it? Or do you want me to butt out?”

Ross appreciated the choice. “I, um. I don’t mind talking about it. I don’t think.”

“Just making sure. You sounded a little - ”

“Distracted,” Ross finished. “I was just sort of reflecting on the goals that we set. My therapist and I, I mean.”

Barry hummed and did that thing where he gave Ross his full attention without saying a word.

“We talked about, what happened with Dan. I figured she’d push me to apologize, friends are important, blah-blah. But she said my anger was valid and that I should only apologize if I meant it, because forced apologies aren’t honest.” Ross chanced a glance at Barry. “She also said I shouldn’t be afraid to tell people what I need from them.”

“That’s a good way of putting it,” Barry conceded. “What did you say?”

“I said I’d think on it. And I have.”

Barry hummed, his thumb stroking back and forth across Ross’s side.

Ross said, “I should have told Dan that I needed him to trust me. I don’t want to have to, you know, explain myself to everyone. Like he shouldn’t need me to tell him that I don’t have an eating disorder. But that doesn’t mean I want him to back off. I need my friends.”

“Maybe it’s hard for Dan to trust you,” Barry said gently.

That stung. “Why?”

“You haven’t exactly been honest with us for a long time.” 

“Fuck,” Ross said. “Dr. Marsten said the same fucking thing.”

“We were all shocked at how bad it was,” Barry’s thumb kept moving, the touch comforting but not overwhelming. “You were so good at lying.”

“Habit.”

“I know. But that’s why Dan doesn’t know what to do when he’s scared for you. Even if he asked the right questions, he has no way of knowing if you’ll answer honestly.”

“You’ve talked to him already.”

“A little,” Barry said. “He’s my friend too, Ross.”

“What did you tell him? About me.”

“Nothing, except that you’re doing better.”

“Yeah?” 

“I don’t talk about you behind your back,” Barry said firmly.

Ross exhaled. “I know, I know.” He knew he could trust Barry.

_And yet you lied to him, over and over._

Ross suddenly felt very small. “I hate that my friends can’t trust me.”

“It’s not too late to fix that, Ross.”

“I need to get better at talking about what happened.”

“You’ve already gotten better.”

“To you,” Ross said. “Only you.”

“’Cause you see so much of me. I’m always around.”

“Always,” Ross repeated, comforted. “I like that.”

“Yeah?” Barry’s smile started in his eyes when he looked at Ross, and it spread over his whole face. Ross loved that smile.

“But maybe you’re right about Holly.”

“Give her a call tomorrow.”

“I will,” Ross decided. “Are you getting bored of this? You wanna watch a movie?”

“Nah. I like this show.”

“Me too.” On screen, a cat and a baby deer groomed each other. Ross said, “I miss Orph and Mojo.”

“Well, you’ll see them if you visit Holly. And maybe you could get a new cat.”

“Jared said I can’t,” God, what the fuck, how did that sneak up on him? Ross quickly corrected himself. “I mean, I couldn’t. Before.”

“He said you couldn’t have a cat?”

“Yeah.” Ross’s mouth was dry. He reached for his glass of water. “It’s not a big deal. It was just a thought. I hadn’t made a serious decision.”

“I’d like a dog,” Barry said reflectively, “but I think I work too much. I’ve thought about a cat, too.”

Ross pictured Barry holding a baby kitten and forgot all about his little flash of sadness. “A little Munchkin kitten, like Arin and Suzy’s?”

“I’d rather a rescue cat. One that probably won’t be adopted.”

“Like it’s missing an eye or leg?”

“Right.”

“You’ve got a soft spot for things that are fucked up?”

Barry’s smile became tight. “You’re not fucked up, Ross.”

“Mm. I didn’t mean to - ”

“Nope. Take it back.”

“Okay, okay. I’m not fucked up.”

“Good.”

“You’re bossy.” Ross grumbled. He shifted on the couch, pushing closer to Barry.

Barry hummed. “Well. You seem to like it.”

Ross’s face went hot and he wasn’t sure what to say.

Luckily Barry saved him. “Hold on,” he said. “Before you get too comfy, I’m gonna go grab a drink.”

“Is there any chocolate milk left?”

“I’ll check.”

Barry’s absence made him feel cold everywhere they’d been touching. Ross shifted uncomfortably and fumbled for his phone. It was still early. Holly would be awake. 

The last text she’d sent him was from five months ago.

Ross took a quick breath. Suddenly, he was nervous. Before he could let his mind get away from him he typed up a quick message and sent it. He didn’t have to worry about Jared seeing him talk to her. He didn’t have to worry about what anybody thought if he didn’t have to.

Huh. Maybe he really was getting better.

**

Ross had never seen the house where Holly lived with her girlfriend Jessie, but he liked it from first sight.

It was a quaint two-story bungalow, a small house on a big lot. The front yard was a rock-and-cactus garden, a dizzying burst of patterns and succulents. The backyard was fenced, and through the gaps in the wooden gate, Ross could see that most of it was taken up by a big pigeon loft. As he walked up to the front door he heard their rumbly little coos.

Some things in life changed, but Holly was still Holly. That was reassuring.

Ross raised his hand to knock but the door opened before he could. 

“Ross!” Holly looked the same as she did that day, sixteen months ago, when she’d come by to pack up the last of her stuff. Her hair was a rosy-goldy blonde instead of the light pink it had been then, but everything else, from her smile to her ragged Converse, was exactly the same. “God, it’s been too long.”

“Hi,” he said, grinning sheepishly. “I, um, it’s great to see you.”

“Come in, it’s nicer out back, don’t mind the mess,” she said, and Ross navigated around the cluttered furniture and ducked beneath the trailing fronds of hanging spider plants to follow her to the back patio.

“Where’s Jessie?” 

“She won’t be home for a while, probably not until you’re gone. She wants to meet you, though. I’ve told her so much about you.”

Paco fluttered onto Ross’s shoulder and wolf-whistled at him. Ross had to laugh.

“Hi Paco.”

“Jessie taught him that,” Holly said. “You want a beer?”

“Sure,” Ross said. He put Paco on top of his cage. Paco’s crest rose up as he whistled the melody to Funkytown at him as he walked away.

They drank two beers apiece on the back patio. Ross was feeling pleasantly nostalgic. Being with Holly was bringing back so many good memories, and none of them were tainted by jealousy or bitterness over her new life and her new love. Holly spoke frankly and openly of her relationship and it only made Ross glad for her. The more relaxed he became, the more he wanted to open up, too.

Halfway through his second bottle, Ross gathered himself and said, “I need to tell you something.”

Holly kept calm during Ross’s story. He smoothed over the parts where Jared would push him into sex, knowing better than to give her such graphic details unless he was a hundred percent sure she was ready - but he didn’t entirely leave it out. 

It was easier to tell Holly than it had been to tell Dr. Marsten. Ross talked for a long time. He began with the time Jared had thrown a heavy paperweight at his head in a fit of rage. He finished with the way Jared had blown up at him, on that last day when Barry had come just in time. 

When he was done talking, Ross looked up and saw Holly with her head bowed. She was trembling. 

Ross had dated her for a long time. He knew her, he knew how badly he’d shaken her. He got up from his chair and went to hug her.

Holly hugged him back, pressing her face into his shoulder. Ross rested his chin in her soft hair, then curled in on himself and nuzzled her. Neither of them felt a shred of awkwardness. Ross felt like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He had opened up to her more than he had with the doctor, even more than he had with Barry, and knowing that he was capable of telling it once made him confident that he could do it again.

“I love you,” she said, her voice muffled in Ross’s hoodie. “I’m glad you told me.”

“I’m glad too,” he whispered.

The idea that he could break up with somebody but keep the best parts of the relationship - sharing this emotional intimacy together, having her warmth and love - was a new concept for Ross. When they pulled away, they smiled at each other, and both knew that they were thinking the same thing. Ross had to wipe his eyes on his sleeves hastily.

“Where is he now?” was her first question once they were seated again. “Is he still…around the city? Are you safe? You can stay here with us.”

“I’m not alone,” he reassured her. “Barry’s been staying at my place. And I changed the locks.” 

Holly still looked unsure. “What about Arin? Maybe he could stay for a bit too?”

Ross shrugged. “Barry’s not exactly a pushover, you know. He could take Jared.”

“And he stays with you all the time?”

“Yeah,” Ross said casually. “Well, most of the time. We do have to work. But, like I said, I changed the locks. I don’t need a twenty-four-seven bodyguard.” 

Holly lifted an eyebrow slightly. “Is that going to be, ah, something permanent?”

Ross frowned. “Well, of course not. Barry has his own place.”

“Oh,” Holly said, a little distantly.

It took a while for Ross to catch on. “It’s not like that,” he said quickly. “We’re not…we’re just friends.”

“Oh,” Holly said again, in the tone that indicated she wasn’t completely convinced. “That’s too bad.”

“Why is it too bad?”

“Well, he cares about you so much. And he’s so good to you. It would be nice if you could have someone like that around you all the time.”

“Isn’t that what friends are for?”

Holly gave him a look, but she knew when to drop it. “You want another beer?”

Ross checked how much was left in his open bottle. He chugged the last few gulps, gave a disgusting five-second belch, then politely said, “Yes please.” 

“You’re gross,” Holly told him cheerfully, and Ross cackled.

**

As the days slipped by, Ross remembered how to be himself again. He still wasn’t exactly sure when he’d forgotten. Somewhere along the line, with Jared, he’d become an actor playing the role of Ross.

Apologizing to Dan seemed scary at first. When Ross asked to talk to him alone, Dan’s eyes got all round, like Ross was about to propose marriage. Ross was pretty sure that Dan was actually holding his breath.

“I’m sorry I’ve been kind of a dick lately,” Ross eventually said. They were in the Grump room, Dan huddled at one end of the couch and Ross on the other. 

Dan relaxed a fraction of an inch. “You sort of had a reason.”

“Maybe a reason to be upset.” Ross met Dan’s eyes frankly. “Not a reason to treat my friends like shit.”

“You were right, though. I wasn’t being supportive.”

Ross remembered the importance of being honest. “You wanted to be, but I didn’t let you know how. And when I was annoyed at you I didn’t let you know, so you didn’t stop.”

“I want to know,” Dan said. “How to be supportive, I mean. I care about you.”

Ross knew that already. There was nothing fake about Dan’s affectionate nature, no hyperbole. 

“I need you to trust me,” Ross said. “I need you to act normal. Like I’m still me, because I am. I need my friends now more than ever. I know I made some dumb choices, with Jared, but I need you to trust that I’m not going to break.”

Dan nodded. Ross went on, encouraged.

“The more people act like I’m a headcase, or like I can’t handle myself, the more I start to doubt my recovery. And I don’t need that right now.”

“Okay,” Dan said, looking down at his palms. “I never meant to…”

“I know you didn’t mean it.” Ross rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Because you didn’t know.”

“But now I do.” Dan met Ross’s gaze again. “I do trust you, Ross.”

Ross hadn’t expected those words to hit him so powerfully. “Thank you. I…really appreciate that.”

“Is it okay if I hug you?” Dan was clearly having a lot of feelings. Probably he wasn’t used to Ross being sincere with him.

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“You said to act normal,” Dan said, “and normally I don’t hug you because I’ll end up getting a noogie, or something.”

“Good point,” Ross said. “Sometimes I do need a hug though.” 

He leaned forward and Dan was happy to take the initiative, winding his arms around Ross’s shoulders and snuggling right up to him with a sigh. The tension between them rushed out of the room like a popped balloon.

“Weird,” Dan said as they parted. “You kind of smell like Barry.”

“Yeah? I think it’s his beard conditioner you’re smelling.” Ross knew that distinctive crisp scent. It was all over his pillows.

“Beard conditioner?”

“It’s the reason his beard is all nice and yours is a pubey mess,” Ross explained.

“At least I can grow a beard. Why were you of all people using Barry’s beard shit?”

“Works good on pubes.” Ross patted Dan’s stubbly cheek. “Hint, hint.”

“I don’t even know if you have pubes.” Dan caught his hand and batted it away. “You’re more of a Filipino child than I am.”

“I’ll show you.” Ross kept patting Dan’s face, because it annoyed him. 

“No thank you.” Dan laughed and wriggled away.

“I’ll put one in your water bottle.”

“You will do no such thing.”

“I have before and you didn’t notice.”

“Is this normal?” Dan asked. “Just to clarify. This is us acting normal, right?”

“I don’t know,” Ross admitted, “but it’s good enough for me.”


	6. Chapter 6

In the morning, Ross rolled over and the bed was empty. 

That wasn’t unusual. Ross liked to sleep late, but Barry was an early riser. Ross lounged for a while until he grew restless, then rose and stripped naked on his way to the shower. 

He must have just missed Barry. The air was thick and humid in the bathroom and the shower still had beads of condensation on the glass. When Ross turned the water on he noticed the short dark hairs near the drain and grinned, thinking about Dan’s stories of living with Barry and all the hair that would collect in the bathroom from Dan’s curly head and Barry’s furry face.

Ross turned the knob hotter and tilted his head down into the spray, thinking vaguely about how irritating it would be to have to shave so often, wondering how it would feel to have a thick beard like Barry’s. Jared had tried growing one once, but it could never get past that short prickly stubble stage, and Ross didn’t like the scrape of it on his face when they kissed. Barry’s beard was soft, like the rest of him. His little jar of beard conditioner was in Ross’s shower caddy. 

Something about that made Ross feel happy. He enjoyed having Barry staying with him, Barry settling in like he was always going to be here. His favourite mug in the cupboard, his laptop set up on the desk opposite Ross’s in the second bedroom that Ross had converted into a studio. Their dirty clothes in the same hamper, doing each other’s laundry whenever they filled it.

Ross didn’t like remembering that it was temporary. It probably didn’t even have to last as long as it had. At first Barry had just been helping out around the house so Ross could heal, keeping him company while he tried to find himself again. And now - now Ross was just being selfish, wasn’t he? If Ross needed someone to talk to, his friends were all just a phone call away. He didn’t _need_ Barry living with him, strictly speaking.

He just liked it. A lot. 

But maybe he should tell Barry that it was okay if he wanted to go home, too. Maybe he wouldn’t want to. Maybe Barry liked this arrangement too. Maybe…

_Maybe what? He’ll sell his house and move in with you?_

Ross blinked water out of his eyes and cursed his overactive mind for running away from him. Feeling faintly embarrassed at himself, he soaped his body quickly and rinsed off. 

When he padded naked into his bedroom, the heaviness between his legs almost surprised him. It had been a long time since he’d felt anything like arousal. 

Ross quickly ran to close and lock the bedroom door in case Barry was still downstairs, in case he came up to check on Ross. Then he threw himself down on the unmade bed, bouncing gently on the mattress.

The silky sheets were cool on his skin. Ross closed his eyes and wrapped a hand around his cock, almost tentative. It felt so good, and _shit_ , he was hard as a rock, solid and hot in his hand. Ross’s mouth opened and he caught his groan just in time. 

“Fuck,” he exhaled, melting into the sheets.

Ross had never been one to take it slow. He went from zero to sixty, his hand stroking up and down so fast it was nearly a blur, not really thinking about anything except how good it felt, how much he needed the release.

His back arched up off the bed, his head lolling back, mouth open and face twisting, free in his solitude. The friction built up and up and up, until he felt like he could literally scream, and he had to grab the pillow next to him and bite down on it to stop himself. The last thing he needed was for Barry to think he’d hurt himself and come rushing up to help. The pillow smelled like Barry. Fuck, but what if - _don’t go there, don’t go there -_

Ross groaned and flung the pillow aside. His free hand clutched his own hip, then wandered downward, two fingers to press behind his balls, faint pressure on his prostate. Ross dared to let out a faint moan. 

He was feeling so fucking _good_ , and he could take all the time in the world or go as fast as he pleased, no pressure, nobody else to take care of first, just him and his own needs and his own wants, Ross calling all the shots.

Ross’s hole clenched around nothing. It wanted, _he_ wanted, something in there so bad, but there was no time to get up and find a toy, no time to - the pads of his fingers rubbing his hole, making him whimper - God, he had to be quiet, Barry might still be - the sweet crisp smell of Barry all over Ross’s sheets - his body grinding downward against his fingers then bucking back up into his fist -

He couldn’t stifle the noise that burst from him as he came. It felt like every muscle in his body tensed at once, his back bowing in a perfect arch, his toes curled so hard they were going numb. His hand filled with his own warm come, but there was more of it, too much for his fist to contain, and then he was squirting up onto his belly, where it trickled down either side of him to pool on the mattress beneath.

Finally, he went limp. Ross panted for air, feeling the wetness seeping under his back, his closed hand leaking pearly fluid from between his fingers.

It was a strangely triumphant moment. Until now Ross hadn’t even realized that the turmoil in his life had been blocking him from feeling aroused. He hadn’t been in charge of himself for so long. It was…it was pleasant. Ross was content and relaxed.

Then he moved, and made a face. Make that content, relaxed and _sticky._

Ross rinsed off in the shower and came back to change the sheets. Probably past time to do so, anyway. When he went downstairs to the laundry room he noticed that Barry’s car was already gone. Hell, that was okay. Ross could meet him at work, maybe even bring him a coffee. 

When he got dressed, he found that the smaller jeans he’d bought no longer fit over his hips. He looked in the mirror and saw something like himself again, still skinny but no longer gaunt. 

Living with Barry, even just part of the time, was…comfortable. Like they’d been living together for years.

Ross couldn’t help but wonder if this was all too sweet to last. 

That thought latched on and wouldn’t leave him alone. Ross felt a flicker of anxiety in his chest at the thought of Barry packing up all his stuff and just leaving with a cheerful grin. _Like Holly,_ he thought, with a little pang.

But then he shook himself. It wasn’t like Holly at all, really. He wasn’t going to get dumped. Barry was just a friend.

 _Just a friend..._

When his chest ached, it felt like a piano being dropped on him.

“Fuck,” Ross said aloud, as realization sunk in.

**

Arin picked him up the next morning at eleven o’clock. It was a Saturday, and he looked rumpled and sleepy. Ross climbed in his Mini Cooper and said, “Holy fuck, it’s freezing in here.”

“It’s a hundred degrees out,” Arin said wearily, “and I’m gonna enjoy the AC now while I can.”

“You’re recording today?”

“Yeah, whenever Dan gets back.” 

Ross didn’t bother asking where Dan was. Dan was always somewhere, doing things - that was just Dan. Ross kind of admired that. He used to go places and do things too. Ireland all the time, cons with Holly. Back home for almost every Christmas. “What are you playing?”

“Majora’s Mask.”

“What, really? Finally.”

“It’ll be popular,” Arin agreed. 

Ross grinned at him. “Dan’s gonna shit himself when he sees the moon.”

“Oh, dude, for sure, it’s gonna be great. Actually, Dan might be playing.”

“Well, he can’t be any worse than you at Zelda.”

“Hey, I’m not bad.”

Ross snorted. “Yeah, the hover boots really are just fantastic for like, the entire last half of the game.”

Arin laughed. “Majora’s Mask doesn’t have the hover boots.”

“Oh, no,” Ross said, deadpan. “But everyone loved it when you wore them.”

“I still beat the game.”

“Barely.”

At the next red light, Arin went to raise a hand at him, clearly a joke, another _goddammit Ross_ moment. Ross knew it was a joke and he still flinched. Arin dropped his arm and winced.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Fuck, that was - that was really stupid of me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Ross assured him.

Arin nodded, but his humour had gone. He pressed his lips together and looked ashamed of himself. “How are you doing, by the way?”

“Better,” Ross said. “Loads better. My therapist is great. You can stop looking like that, I told you not to worry.”

“Okay, yeah, sorry.” Arin nodded. He could read Ross’s face and know he was telling the truth. “I’m glad about your therapist. And that you and Dan talked.”

“He told you?”

“Well, yeah. He was so happy that you forgave him. He felt so bad about what he did.” Arin drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “He loves you, you know.”

“I know,” Ross said. “He told me so.”

“Good.”

Ross supposed Dan had a good long talk with Arin, the day Ross exploded at him. Likely Arin had done so before coming over to speak with Ross. That was Arin’s job, after all - the Grump space, the company, it was all Arin’s, and he worked like hell to make things run smooth. “I’m sorry that I yelled at him out of nowhere like that.”

“From what I heard, it wasn’t out of nowhere. Dan can be…well, you know him. He’s not great at confronting people. He wanted to talk to you and didn’t know how.”

“Doesn’t mean I get to insult him.”

“No,” Arin said, “but you’re under a lot of fuckin’ stress, and it’s understandable. No big deal.” 

Ross gave him a smile. “Thanks.” He spotted a sign ahead and said, “Hey, look, Taco Bell.”

“Hungry?”

“Fuck yeah.”

“Alright,” Arin changed lanes and turned toward it.

“I think I need a quesarito,” Ross said. “You should try one.”

“No thanks,” Arin said. “I prefer my shit not to be explosive diarrhea, actually.”

“Your loss.” Ross leaned over Arin’s lap to order his food through the drive-thru speaker. When it came time to pay, he reached into his pocket, but Arin was faster.

“You didn’t have to,” Ross said as they drove away.

Arin shrugged. “Just a couple of bucks. No big deal.”

“Still.”

“Let me do something nice for you, okay?”

It didn’t feel like pity, coming from Arin. Ross knew Arin too well. “Thanks.”

“You can eat it in here. It’s a fuckin’ mess anyway.” 

Ross did just that. It was another ten minutes to Arin’s house, and he was hungry. Arin filled the silence by turning on the radio and Ross didn’t feel rude about having his mouth full. By the time they were pulling in, he was done. 

“Suzy’s not home?” he asked, a little hesitant. He liked Suzy, of course he did - but she wasn’t his best friend like Arin was, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about too many people knowing what he was about to say.

“She’s out with her sister. Annual visit.” Arin could read between the lines. “Is there something you wanna talk about?”

“Well, yeah. I wouldn’t have bothered you for no reason on a Saturday.”

Arin snorted. “Having you over doesn’t bother me, you big doof.”

“Right, well.” Ross gave a little shrug. “I kinda wanted to talk to you about, um. Barry.”

Arin’s expression didn’t change. “What about him?”

“I might have feelings for him.”

Arin blinked once. “Okay.”

“Just okay?”

“Am I supposed to be surprised?”

Ross was put out. “Yeah.”

“Oh,” Arin said. “It’s just - well - ”

The look on his face reminded Ross of how Holly looked when asking if Barry was moving in permanently. “Does everyone know? What the fuck. Someone could have told me.”

“Somebody could have told you that you have feelings for him?” Arin sounded amused.

“It’s nice to be considered!”

“He’s been sleeping in your bed with you,” Arin said. “I mean, we all sort of thought…”

“He only does that because I asked him to. He doesn’t…he wouldn’t like me, not like that.”

“Why not?” Arin asked patiently.

“Good things don’t happen to me very much,” Ross said, and he hadn’t meant it to sound so depressing, but, well. There it was.

Arin softened. “Maybe sometimes they do, Ross.”

Ross rubbed his face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Because you’re a good person, and the universe kind of owes you a big fuckin’ debt.”

“I’m not good enough for him anyway.”

Arin’s eyes went a little hard. “Don’t do that, dude, that’s not cool.”

“What?”

“Putting yourself down like that.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Ross said, which was the truth.

“You’re one of my best friends.”

“I know.”

“All my friends are awesome, and anyone who says otherwise can blow me.”

There was a joke there somewhere that Ross was too distracted to make. Instead he said, “If I asked Barry out, and he rejected me, what would I do?”

“He won’t say no.”

“But if he did.”

“Like in some fucked-up parallel universe where he was stupid or blind?”

“Arin, fuck.” Ross crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m being serious.”

“So am I.” Arin stretched his legs out in front of him. “What’s the point in thinking about everything that could go wrong, anyway? Worst case scenario, he does say no, and you’ll feel kind of shitty, and you’ll heal. We’ve all been there. You’re both too smart to let anything drive a wedge between you.”

“The worst case scenario is that he says yes because he feels bad for me. Or because he’s just always hanging around and he’s gotten used to me.”

“You think Barry would do that to you?”

Ross considered that. “I guess not,” he conceded. “I’m just…scared? The idea that there’s even a chance is just so…I don’t know. Seems stupidly optimistic. Life isn’t a fucking movie.”

Arin shook his head. “I don’t know what you want me to tell you, dude. I think you’re way off base thinking that this is a one-sided thing.”

“Okay, but even if - let’s say he likes me too - what if I fuck everything up?”

Arin gave him a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”

“Arin. It’s sort of what I do best. I’m a mess. I know I’ve made progress, but I’m still - ”

“Not perfect?” Arin rolled his eyes. “Guess what, man, nobody is.” 

“I’m not holding out for perfection. A little stability would be great. A little bit of my own strength.”

“And what exactly do you call your returning to work, like, two weeks after having your ribs broken?”

“I dunno,” Ross said. “Too much Tylenol and an inability to obey doctors’ orders?”

“Goddamn it, Ross.” Arin rolled his eyes again. “You’re a lot fucking stronger than you look, alright?”

“That’s not hard.”

“Shut up, doofus.” Arin laughed.

“Make me.”

“Don’t make me get cheesy.”

“I like cheese.”

“Fine.” Arin crossed his arms. “Ross, you’re funny, and you’re nice, and you’re a good friend who makes us all laugh, and seeing you take control of your life is inspirational as hell. Everyone is impressed. And even though I think of you as like, a brother, I can still say that you’re really hot, too. You’re being too hard on yourself.”

“Hard on,” Ross repeated. “Ha, ha.”

Arin ignored him. “Your self image is a little fucked right now, but soon you’ll realize I’m right.”

“I just feel like - okay, you can say I’m inspirational all you want, but I’m not. I did nothing about what Jared did to me. I didn’t go to the cops. I didn’t tell anybody. And now he’s out there, and what if he does it again to somebody else?”

Arin’s smile faded. 

Ross was struck. He’d hit the nail on the head. That was the thing he was really ashamed of, wasn’t it? That was the difference between him and Barry. Barry would have done the right thing. Barry thought about other people like that. But Ross was selfish. Ross was going to let other people get hurt because _he_ was too weak or self-centred to tell the truth.

“You know most people don’t go to the police, right?” Arin asked, softly. “Most - victims of abuse, or. Or rape.”

The word hit Ross, but not as hard as he thought it would. He was glad Arin could say it. He was glad that he could still look at Arin, with that word hanging between them.

Arin’s face was a little red. “I shouldn’t assume anything. I know he didn’t get a chance, the day we came, but - ”

Ross understood what Arin was trying to say and he met it head-on. “Are you trying to ask me if Jared raped me.”

Arin winced. “Yes, if you - you don’t have to tell me, but. Yes.”

Ross stared at his beat-up Converse. “There were a lot of times when he’d get pushy, but only - there was only one time when I really did say no and try to stop him, and he went ahead anyway.”

Arin looked sick. He pressed his palm to his mouth briefly, then took it away and made himself meet Ross’s eyes with a visible effort. “Coerced consent is not consent.”

“I know.”

“You don’t have to downplay it.”

“I’m not. It just. It didn’t seem like a big deal at the time. He was always pushy about stuff.”

“Shitfuck,” Arin breathed. His eyes were wet and he was trying not to let Ross see. “They should have let me go after him.”

Ross appreciated the sentiment, but - “You’re not allowed to kill anybody.”

“Wouldn’t have killed him. Just would have made him suffer.”

“You’re too pretty for jail, Arin.”

Arin made out a noise that was half-laugh, half-sob. “I’d go for you.”

Ross tasted the salt before he realized that he was crying. Half-blind, he scooted toward Arin and put his arms around his friend’s broad shoulders. 

“Thanks,” Arin put his hands on Ross’s back, light pressure without grabbing him. 

“You okay?” Ross asked.

“I will be in a sec.” His back heaved as he breathed deeply. Ross unconsciously mirrored him, in through his nose and out through his mouth, until they were both calm.

Arin pulled away and said, “Thank you for telling me. I’m glad you trust me.”

Ross was glad, too. Glad that he could tell the truth and not feel ashamed. “It’s getting easier to talk about. It was hard at first. But then I’ve told Holly, and my therapist, and Barry.”

“Have you told him that you feel guilty about not going to the police?”

“No,” Ross said. “I sort of just figured it out now.” He frowned. “Or maybe that’s why I - oh, shit.”

“That’s why you don’t feel good enough for him?”

“Maybe it’s a contributing factor.”

“Talk to him,” Arin said immediately. “He’ll tell you the same damn thing, that most people - ”

“I don’t want to be _most people._ Barry’s too good for most people.”

“Barry’s too good to ever, _ever_ judge you for being afraid.”

The fear suddenly pressed in from all sides. Ross imagined telling a stern faceless policeman that Jared - the scrawny, gawky sixty-five kilo Jared - had beaten him up, numerous times, and Ross had done jack shit to stop him. The room suddenly went wobbly and Ross put an arm out to steady himself. 

“Whoa,” Arin put a hand on his arm. “You okay?”

“I’m not ready,” Ross said, shakily. “Totally not ready to try and press charges.”

“It’s okay,” Arin comforted. “No pressure, man.”

“If he hurts somebody else - ”

“It’s all on him,” Arin said. “You’re not responsible for the fucked-up shit he does.” He hesitated, like he wasn’t sure if he should say more. “Pressing charges might not get him jail time anyway. You would probably get a restraining order, but it wouldn’t stop him from hurting someone else. It’s not up to you to stop him. It’s up to you to protect yourself first, and if that means taking some time, then that’s what you’re gonna do.”

“When did you get so fuckin’ smart,” Ross mumbled, laying his head on Arin’s shoulder.

Arin touched his hair. He said, “I’m not allowed to tell you the details, but. You’re not the only person I love who’s had to go through this.”

That just made Ross feel even more sad. “Oh.”

“Yeah, so. I’m never going to tell you that there’s anything you’re supposed to do, to do the right thing.”

Ross sat upright and put himself in order. He said, “Maybe I’ll focus on one thing at a time.”

“What’s the one thing?”

“Barry,” Ross admitted.

“Yeah?”

“I think, if I had him with me all the time, I could do it. He’s gotten me this far.” 

“You’ve gotten yourself this far.”

Ross wondered if that was true. “Either way. We have such a good time together. I don’t want to lose this.” It was okay to be greedy, he reminded himself. It was okay to think about himself. “I love living with him. Going home to him. Having him there when I fall asleep. I feel…safe. Loved.”

Arin put on a hurt look. “What am I, chopped liver?”

Ross smacked him on the arm. “You make me feel loved too. But I think if you lived with me, we’d strangle each other.”

“You make a good point,” Arin said, and then he paused. “Not that I would ever actually hurt you, of course.”

“I can take a joke, Arin.”

Arin nodded. “’Kay, yeah, sorry. Hey, you wanna stay for dinner?”

“It’s like a quarter past noon.”

“And Barry’s waiting at home for you,” Arin teased.

“No, dammit - he’s actually working, but - I meant - do you really have that much time to kill?”

Arin gave him a look. “Cut the shit, Ross, you know I always have time for you.”

Flattered, Ross called him a cheese ball and smacked a kiss on his cheek. Arin spluttered and made a big deal of wiping it off, but couldn’t hide his big dumb grin.

They played Super Mario World through to Chocolate Island and Ross’s face hurt from smiling by the time he got home.


	7. Chapter 7

Ross attacked life again with a vengeance.

He called his mom, found he couldn’t tell her about Jared - not like this, not on the phone - but told her that he loved her and that he was sorry for not calling so much anymore. 

Then Ross called his sister too, and a few details slipped out, enough to make her promise he’d come home for a visit. For Thanksgiving, Ross said to needle her; she was a traditionalist when it came to the trend of celebrating the American autumn holidays of Halloween and Thanksgiving. Her indignant response got him laughing loud enough to rouse Barry from a nap on the couch.

Sometimes there would be dreams, or a sudden memory that caught him off guard - finding a glass shard behind the couch, a little piece of the bird Jared broke in his rage. But Barry was right, and he was never alone for too long. Ross became more open to asking for comfort, and Barry was always willing to give it.

It was okay to be honest when he wanted to be held. It was okay to tell people to leave him alone for the day and not to knock on his office door. It was okay to put his own needs first.

And it was okay to have a crush on Barry. It was probably okay to ask him out. Arin had said so, and Holly had confirmed. 

Ross wasn’t good at being subtle and he wasn’t particularly romantic. Once he had made up his mind to do it, he jumped in with both feet. Like the old Ross would. 

He wandered into the living room and said, “Do you like Din Tai Fung?”

Barry looked up from his laptop. He was wearing his glasses, the old-fashioned ones that Ross always made fun of but secretly liked. Anything else wouldn’t suit him. “Yeah, of course, who doesn’t?”

Ross fidgeted. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Do you think you’d wanna go with me?”

Barry shrugged. “I could go for some dumplings. You mean now?”

They were in their PJs. Ross shook his head. “Maybe, um. On the weekend, or Friday night, when we don’t have work the next day? And maybe we could do a movie after?”

“Isn’t that the same thing we do every night, Pinky?”

Ross scrunched up his face and glared. This had sounded easier in his head. 

Barry‘s brow creased and he gave Ross his full attention. “What? What’s wrong?”

“I sort of thought we could make it special.”

Barry’s face was blank. “Is there an occasion that I’m not aware of?”

Ross sighed. “I fucking suck at this.”

“You suck at what?”

“I’m sort of, um.” Ross forced himself to make eye contact. Barry was so distractingly handsome in his pale blue shirt. “Barry, I. I’m trying to ask you out on a date.”

“Ross.” Barry blinked. “I, uh. You - ”

Ross immediately hunched his shoulders as he felt the blow to his gut. “Okay, yeah, I just thought maybe, since we’ve been spending so much time together - ”

Barry held up a hand. He looked dazed. “I didn’t say no.”

Ross shut his mouth to stop his babbling and looked at Barry.

“Ross, is this just a gratitude thing? Because, I know I’ve kept sleeping in your bed even though you asked just that first night, but I wasn’t trying to get in your pants now that you’re finally single.”

Ross stared. “Are you asking me I’m paying you back for helping me get my shit together with a pity date?”

Barry looked as flustered as Ross had ever seen him. “I just want to be sure, okay?”

“It’s not a gratitude thing,” Ross said, his tone pointed. He crossed his arms over his chest. “I am sort of grateful that you saved my life, but. I’m asking you because I want to go on a date with you.”

“You really want to go on a date with _me._ ”

Ross quailed. “You can say no.”

“Why the hell would I say no?” Barry’s eyebrows shot up. “Ross, do you have any idea how long I’ve - ” He cut himself off.

Ross was started to see that Barry - composed, calm Barry - was blushing. “How long you’ve what?”

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve had a crush on you?”

“You’ve had a crush on me?” Ross’s voice came out three octaves higher than normal. “You could have told me!”

“I guess I didn’t ever think that you would - that you’d be ready to start dating again so soon.” 

“Well,” Ross said, “maybe with a stranger, I wouldn’t be. But it’s _you_. I’ve known you for years. We’ve been sleeping in the same bed and like, living together.”

“Maybe you just like me because I’m always around.” Barry made it sound like it was a joke, but it wasn’t, not to him. Ross could see it in his eyes.

“Barry,” Ross began slowly, trying to think about each word before he spoke. “You mean so much to me, alright? We have a good time together. You’re the reason I didn’t fall to pieces after all that’s happened. You believe in me and you make me believe in myself. This feels like something that was meant to happen.”

Barry stuttered, tripped over his tongue until he said, “Okay, yes. Yes, I’d love to go on a date with you.” His cheeks turned an even brighter pink.

Ross felt himself almost vibrating with excitement. The idea that he could make Barry come undone was incredible. “Are you free Friday night?”

Barry could only nod. He still looked a little dumbstruck.

“Okay,” Ross said, swallowing back the big dumb grin that kept trying to creep onto his face. “Alright, yeah. Friday. It’s a date.”

**

Ross worked late the next day. He was feeling good about himself, bolstered by another visit with Arin and a walk around Elysian Park with Holly. Realizing vaguely that he hadn’t been updating his social media in a while, he grabbed his phone and took a picture of himself in his studio. It was simple, just his face and his sketchpad showing an unfinished line drawing, captioned with a little positive note about the progress of Game-o-verse.

He normally didn’t read through comments religiously, but he felt curious about what they were saying. He was just scrolling through idly, drinking a bottle of Soylent, when he saw it. 

_I can’t believe he cheated on Jared._

Ross stared for a long time, then dismissed it as a lone troll.

But there were more. Gossip, speculation, hateful jabs. A couple messages of support. One lone user suggesting that Jared was a jerk for making a video about their private life.

Ross knew better than to look. He so knew better. Which is why he absolutely was not going to go to Youtube, type in _ProJared_ in the search bar, and look at his reel of recent videos. It was all he could do not to scream. Jared had, apparently, uploaded a video calmly attributing his lack of recent online activity to ‘a bad break-up’. Bad, because Ross had cheated on him and then kicked him out of the house.

The comments were somehow worse. Way worse than the ones on Instagram. The best thing Ross saw himself called was _scumbag_. The worst was _slut_. Ross hadn’t been called that, ever in his life, until Jared. 

The house suddenly felt small, constricting. Trapped. Ross’s breath came a little faster as he walked from his office to his bedroom, half-expecting to see Jared there, asleep. He swallowed and ducked into the bathroom to splash his face with cold water. The cabinet door - it had always been a little off-centre - swung open slowly.

Jared’s hair gel was still under the sink. Jared’s toothbrush was still in the little plastic cup, right beside Ross’s spare. Ross backed away, panic crawling up his throat, choking him.

Ross had to get out. He stumbled down the stairs and nearly fell. Out, get out, get away. Get away from it all. He jammed his bare feet into his Converse and grabbed his keys from the hook. 

The night air felt cool on his bare arms. Ross stood blinking stupidly on his porch for some time before fear seized him tight. He thought of Jared cruising the street in front of his house, of Barry on the phone with Arin when he thought Ross couldn’t hear him, saying, _I think I saw Jared’s car go by again…_

Ross hurried down the stairs, turned left and began to walk quickly. 

The rhythm of his feet on the sidewalk was comforting. He was alone, blissfully alone. Almost all the windows of the neighbouring houses were dark and Ross felt free. 

Concentrating on his breathing helped soothe him. Counting the sidewalk tiles as they passed kept his brain from racing in circles. Six, seven, eight, he didn’t need to text Jared, he didn’t have to explain himself, he didn’t have to be home in time to clean himself up before sex. Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. Ross could go anywhere he wanted. Anywhere. He could go and go and go and nothing in the world could hold him back. Ross walked and counted until his legs were numb and his brain was quiet. He stopped looking around him and just watched the ground moving beneath his feet.

Eventually he came out of his fog and noticed that he could no longer count sidewalk tiles. It was almost pitch-black and he seemed to be walking on a dirt path. When he glanced up, he was startled to find himself surrounded by trees. He had absolutely no idea where he was. 

Ross fought the fear and fumbled in his pocket for his phone, to use the flashlight.

Shit. His phone had been off the whole time. Ross turned it on and was immediately greeted with a barrage of little notification beeps. He had a slew of texts and they were all from Barry.

_Where are you?_

_Did someone come pick you up?_

_Call me._

_Ross?_

_Hey dude_

_Ross please call me back_

_Ross?_

There were five missed calls and two voice messages. Ross let out a shaky breath. “Fuck,” he whispered out loud. He touched Barry’s name on the screen and held the phone to his ear.

It only rang once. “Ross!” Barry sounded out of breath. Almost like he’d been - crying. It startled Ross into silence and he didn’t answer until Barry called his name again, more urgently.

“Hey,” Ross answered in a small voice. “I, um. I’m okay. I just saw your texts. My phone was off.”

“Where have you been?” 

“I - I went for a walk. I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t mean to sound accusing. You can do whatever you want, okay? I just - I got scared. I went by your place after work and you weren‘t there.”

“I was working and I fell asleep.” Ross’s stomach twisted with guilt. Of _course_ Barry would be worried. It was past midnight. Ross hadn’t bothered turning on his phone. Why was he such a fuck-up? “I’m really, really sorry. I didn’t mean to.” Briefly he remembered what Barry said about apologizing so much.

“It’s okay.” Barry didn’t call him out on it, didn’t make him feel bad. There was a short silence. “It’s almost two in the morning.”

 _Was it?_ “Yeah,” was all he could say. He’d been walking for three hours. 

“Are you coming home soon? Where are you?”

“Um. I don’t know…”

Ross heard shuffling noises, a muffled _fuck_. He winced, but all Barry said was, “Can you see a street sign.”

“I’m - in a park, I think. I’m on a path? It’s really dark.”

“Ross…”

“I know, I know.” 

“Your phone has a lot of battery left?”

“Yeah. You know, this isn’t exactly a horrible area. I’m not going to get, like, stabbed.”

Barry ignored that. “Just keep your eyes open and stay on the phone with me.”

“Okay.” Ross walked, listening to Barry’s breathing on the other end of the line, until he saw a tall light post twinkling through the waving palm fronds and turned towards it. The dirt path met with a wider, paved walkway. A man on a bike zoomed by, helping ease the sense of preternatural loneliness and gloom. “I think I see a road.”

“Thank God.”

Ross walked a ways to the nearest cross-section and looked at the signs on the pole. He blinked in surprise. “Um. I’m at Hazeltine and Huston?”

“You walked to Sherman Oaks.”

“I guess so.” 

“I’m coming to get you. Can you please find somewhere safe to wait for me. I’ll be about twenty-five minutes.”

Ross looked all around him. He had a vague idea of where he was; he wasn’t close to anything. There was a bench at a bus stop across the street. And his legs were exhausted. “I’ll just wait here. I’m okay.”

“Okay. I’m going to start driving now. You need me, you call me, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I love you, Ross.”

Ross felt like crying again. “I love you too.”

Barry’s car rolled up smoothly, eighteen minutes later. Ross felt embarrassed as he slid into the passenger seat. 

“That was fast,” he said.

“I might have been speeding.” 

“Why?”

Barry glanced at him quickly. “I was really worried about you.”

“You were?”

Barry bit his lip and drew a deep breath. He reached over the armrest and took Ross’s hand. Ross squeezed it.

“It doesn’t matter,” Barry told him. “You’re safe. I’m here. We’re going to go and get some sleep.”

“Not my house,” Ross said. “Please. Somewhere else.”

“We can go to my place,” Barry offered. 

“Is there anything I can eat before bed?”

“You’re hungry?”

“Yeah. Can we go to McDonalds?”

Barry laughed softly. “Sure we can.”

“I’d like a McFlurry and fries.”

“And maybe something that will actually fill you up?”

“Maybe.”

“Good.” Barry stopped at a red light and impulsively leaned over to kiss Ross on the cheek. 

Ross felt the warmth on his face, the lingering tingle of Barry’s mouth. He pressed his fingers to it absentmindedly as he looked out the window, like he wanted to seal it there. He wanted to do better. He wanted to eat more and get back to a safe weight. He wanted it so much, not only for himself, but for Barry. Barry who believed in him, who loved him, who stayed up half the night worrying about him and didn’t get angry that Ross needed a ride home from some random park at one-thirty AM.

He ate a burger at McDonalds and a piece of toast when they got to Barry’s place, choking it back for Barry’s sake, washing it down with milk.

“You wanna talk about what happened tonight?” Barry asked, drawing Ross into his arms.

“Jared,” Ross said, ducking his head. “He made a video, he told everyone that we broke up because I cheated on him.”

Barry didn’t seem surprised. “How did you see it?”

Ross looked up. “You knew?”

Barry hesitated. “I heard about it on Twitter. People were asking me if it was me you cheated on him with.”

“What did you say?”

“I ignored them,” Barry said. “Because getting into a fight with strangers online is always a losing battle.”

He sounded so mature, so reasonable. Ross felt tears sting his eyes. “The shit they were saying about me, the comments on Jared’s video…”

“It’s not worth your time.” Barry’s fingers stroked through his hair. “They don’t know you, Ross.”

“I know. But it fucking hurts, Bear.”

Barry kept his hand moving, petting his head in a rhythmic way. It was calming. “It must be pretty rough.”

“It is. Fuck. Someone called me a slut, and that’s what Jared would always call me and I just started remembering all the times he said it…”

“That just proves how low he is, and how much those fucking trolls don’t matter. Only idiots would use that word. Small-minded, meaningless strangers, that’s all they are.”

“I’m being stupid,” Ross said after a beat. He thought of all the Internet hate pages, all the horrible things Dan and Arin were called nearly every day, the forums dedicated to ridiculing them all. “I freaked out for nothing.”

“You don’t get to pick what triggers you, Ross.”

Ross was quiet. “Yeah,” he said after a while, “maybe.”

“And you’re not stupid.”

“Mmm.”

“Ross.”

“Okay, okay, I’m not being stupid.” 

“Better.” Barry cupped his cheek. “I hate seeing you upset.” 

Ross opened an eye. “Sorry,” he mumbled. The warmth radiating from Barry’s body was making him so drowsy. “I’ll try not to be, for you.”

“Not for me. For you.”

Ross gave a sleepy nod. He didn’t want to think anymore. 

Barry knew him well, and he knew what Ross needed. “Let’s get some rest, huh?”

Sleep came easier than he thought, wrapped in Barry’s arms.

**

“Good morning,” Barry said the next day when Ross came downstairs, lured by the smell of food. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Really good, actually.” Ross appreciated that Barry didn’t force him to talk. He was probably curious about why Ross had decided to go for a three-hour walk at midnight and gotten himself lost, but he would wait until Ross was ready to talk. 

“Me too. I got up maybe an hour ago.” Barry flipped a pancake expertly. “I hope you’re hungry.” 

The pancakes were enormous. Barry had filled them with blueberries. There was real maple syrup on the table. “I can definitely eat. Those look great.”

“Thanks.” Barry smiled at him. “Just sit down, I’ll get you your glass of milk.”

“Okay.” Ross felt strange, having Barry wait on him like this. He watched Barry stack pancakes onto two plates, pour more batter in the pan. He was wearing plaid pyjama bottoms and a rumpled white T-shirt. Ross watched the way the shirt rode up when Barry reached to turn off the stove. He blushed when Barry turned and caught him staring.

“You look good,” Ross said, almost shyly. “I like you in white.”

Barry’s smile was radiant. He put down his spatula and came over to kiss Ross lightly on the forehead. “I like how you look in my T-shirt,” he said, and Ross felt his cheeks grow warm. 

They ate in pleasant silence, not because they didn’t want to talk but because the pancakes were so good. Ross hadn’t realized that Barry had made half of them with chocolate chips, which were his favourite. He ate everything on his plate and licked up the syrup when he was done. Barry’s eyes crinkled at the corners with laughter.

“I’ll wash the dishes,” Ross offered.

“That’s okay,” Barry smiled. “You’re a guest.” He finished his own stack of pancakes and his coffee, then picked up Ross’s plate and his own and turned toward the sink.

Ross watched him for a while as he went at the frying pan with a sponge and cleaned up some spilled batter from the countertop. Ross liked the way the fabric of the pants stretched across Barry’s ass when he bent to fill the dishwasher. He liked the way Barry looked in general, soft but strong, gentle and protective. He liked to hear Barry hum contentedly as he worked, as he often did.

Ross was moving, standing up, before having made the conscious decision to do so. He slid his arms around Barry’s waist from behind and kissed the back of his neck. Barry dropped the towel he was holding and leaned his head back, pressing himself into Ross’s touch. 

“Ross,” he said, all low and a little growly, and Ross gasped and gripped him tighter.

“We should go back upstairs,” Ross suggested, a little heat in his voice. 

Barry’s breath hitched. “You know you don’t owe me anything.”

“I know.”

“We haven’t even had a real date.”

“I know that, too.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do…”

Ross nipped Barry’s earlobe and heard him moan breathily. “Trust me, I know.”

“Jesus, Ross.” Barry turned in Ross’s grasp, putting his own arms around Ross’s shoulders. His lips tasted like coffee, his breath was still a little ripe from the night, and his kiss was so passionate that it filled Ross’s stomach with a pleasant fizzy feeling, like he might lift right up off the ground if he weren’t anchored in place. “Maybe we should talk about this.”

“Is this too much?” Ross bit his lip. “You don’t want me?”

Barry blew out a breath. “God, Ross, of course I want you. I just don’t want to move too fast, do something you’ll regret.”

“I won’t regret this.” Ross closed his eyes, nuzzled his cheek against Barry’s beard. “Barry, I’m fucking in love with you, okay.”

Barry cupped Ross’s face and looked at him searchingly. “I feel the same way about you,” he said, and he kissed Ross like he’d been waiting his whole life to do it. Ross was left breathless and dazed when they parted.

“You know what else I want?” Ross whispered, giving Barry a half-lidded look, biting his lower lip. Barry’s eyes were drinking him in and he loved it. He loved feeling sexy, wanted, desired. 

“What?” 

Ross’s fingers trailed down Barry’s chest, down his stomach, toying with the drawstring of his pants playfully. “Come on,” Ross urged, pressing their bodies together. “Upstairs.” He slipped out of Barry’s arms and tugged on his hand. Barry, looking dazed, followed him up to his room.

The sunshine was streaming through the curtains, painting stripes of gold on Barry’s plaid comforter. They warmed Ross’s skin as he wriggled out of his shirt and pants and crawled on top of the blanket wearing just his underwear. He giggled at Barry when he saw him staring open-mouthed.

“Come on,” Ross stretched luxuriously. “Come here.”

Barry shucked off the white tee and plaid pants and followed Ross onto the bed. Ross laid on his back and urged Barry to lay on top of him, loving the warm weight of him. He ran his hands down Barry’s back, feeling the patch of hair at the base of his spine, and then reached further to grab the soft swell of Barry’s ass. Barry moaned and kissed Ross hard.

“I want you so much,” Ross said when they parted.

Barry was breathless. “I’ve wanted you for a long time.”

“I’m right here,” Ross whispered. “So what do you wanna do with me?”

“I want to make you feel good,” Barry said back. “I want to make you feel as good as you look.”

“How do I look?”

“Fucking _amazing._ ” Barry kissed his neck, breathing in his scent. His lips moved up and over the shell of Ross’s ear. Ross shivered delightedly and pushed his hips up, his hardness pressing against Barry’s groin. 

“Oh,” Barry said, his tone playful, “are you trying to tell me something? Do you want me to touch you there?” He propped himself up on his elbow and trailed his big warm hand down Ross’s chest, his stomach, Ross almost writhing in anticipation, before finally cupping the outline of Ross’s cock. The teasing sensation of Barry’s fingers through cotton was almost too much to handle. Ross whined and rocked his hips, desperate for me.

“I’ll take care of you,” Barry promised, kissing him again. “Can I take your underwear off?”

“Yes!” Ross practically shouted at him, and Barry laughed, a full deep belly laugh. It died on his lips when he got Ross’s boxers down and saw him fully naked and erect, and was replaced by a look of silent awe. Ross reached down to cover himself, instinctively self-conscious about how bony his hips and thighs were, but remembered at the last second that Barry loved him and there was no reason to hide. Instead he took his cock in hand and stroked it, squeezing lightly to make a bead of pre-come form at the tip.

“Look at you.” Barry caressed Ross’s hip. “You gorgeous little thing.”

Ross stroked himself faster at Barry’s words, gasping a little at the waves of pleasure. It had been a long time since he’d touched himself, since he’d felt anything like this deep pulsing arousal. Sex had been a chore for a long time, and Ross had largely felt too tired and worthless to think about jerking off. 

“Thought you wanted _me_ to touch you,” Barry prompted him gently after a minute, raising an eyebrow. “Although, if you want to continue the show, I don’t mind…”

“Yeah?” Ross was surprised but pleased. “You like watching?”

Barry grinned at him. “Yeah,” he said, with a little hitch in his voice. “You look really sexy, making yourself feel good.”

Ross, burning hot beneath Barry’s gaze, continued to pleasure himself, slow and easy, his body responding eagerly to his own touch. He used his other hand to cup his smooth balls, rolling them in his palm as he kept working his dick up and down, gasping at the sensations pulsing through his body. 

Barry was breathing hard and Ross could see his cock straining at the fabric of his boxers. He made no move to touch himself. He seemed content to enjoy sharing Ross’s pleasure, like seeing Ross happy was enough to satisfy him. His clear blue eyes focused on Ross’s face, full of desire, full of admiration. “God, I love you,” he said.

Ross smiled like an idiot, and he knew he looked like an idiot, but he couldn’t help it. Barry was looking at him like he was Christmas come early. For the first time Ross felt almost good about his body, despite how skinny he still was, the way his ribs were still so clearly defined. Barry said he was beautiful, and from the reverent way he cupped Ross’s waist, Ross knew he wasn’t lying. They kissed again, sweet and soft, and then Ross felt a burst of his old impulsive nature and reached for the waistband of Barry’s boxers.

“Hey,” Barry said softly, “you don’t have to - ”

“Want to.” Ross gave a tug, and Barry’s cock sprang out, hard and ready, and _big_. “Oh my God.”

“What?”

“Don’t give me that, you fucking know what, you’re _huge._ ”

“Oh,” Barry said, colouring. “I guess it’s big enough, sure.”

Barry Kramer, sweet and humble, too modest to brag about his enormous porn-star dick. Ross pushed at his hip to make him lay on his back. Barry’s cock curved up toward his belly, red and flushed against the pale backdrop of his skin. He was hairier than Jared, thick dark hair all around his cock and lower belly, his upper thighs faintly furry. Ross trailed his fingers down the trail of hair from his belly button to the base of his cock. The faint musky smell of him reached Ross’s nose and made his mouth water. 

Ross put his hands on Barry’s hips, bent his head low, and opened his mouth to take him in, just like that.

“Ross!” Barry writhed but didn’t buck. He gasped when Ross’s tongue licked expertly along the sensitive underside of the head. His hands settled in Ross’s hair, but his touch was light, and he didn’t push Ross’s head down.

It felt strange to do as he pleased, to not have his mouth fucked carelessly. Ross had almost forgotten that he _liked_ doing this, loved sucking dick, the taste and smell of it, the weight pressing on his tongue. He took more in, filling his mouth, and moaned. _Fuck_ , Barry tasted so good. He sounded good too, moaning softly at everything Ross did. He stroked Ross’s silky hair and Ross nearly melted into a puddle.

“Hey,” Barry said softly after a minute. “Hey, Ross, can you - turn around?”

Ross pulled off with a slurp. “What?”

“Straddle me, and turn around? I want - I want to make you feel good too.”

Ross’s breath caught as he realized what Barry was saying. “Oh,” he said breathlessly. “Yeah, yeah, okay, hold on.”

He turned and put his knees on either side of Barry’s stomach, then used his hands to hold his weight as he shuffled his legs backward. Ross felt a little nervous at being so exposed, his ass right in Barry’s face, but he couldn’t deny it was kind of hot. 

Barry’s hands began to knead his ass, making Ross’s toes curl. “Come closer,” he said, and Ross shuffled backward even further. Barry’s cock was directly beneath his mouth. His own cock touched Barry’s chin, and he jumped at the soft prickle of his beard.

“Oh fuck,” Ross gasped, his elbows buckling as he felt warm wetness envelop the tip of his cock. “Oh, oh Barry, that feels good.”

Barry’s chuckle reverberated through him. Ross saw his dick twitch and remembered that he had unfinished work to do. He bent his head and sucked Barry’s cock back into his mouth, making Barry emit a muffled groan. 

It was easier like this, the curve of Barry’s dick following the downward curve of Ross’s throat. Ross was able to plunge down nearly to the base with ease. It was hard to do more than bob his head and moan, with Barry’s mouth working him so sweetly from below, driving him half out of his mind. And when Barry’s hands came up to fondle his ass, Ross had to pull off and pant wetly into Barry’s thigh, whimpering with pleasure.

Barry pulled off, too. “Ross,” he said, his voice a little ragged, “can I - can I put my mouth on - ”

Ross pressed his cheek against Barry’s velvety shaft, his mind reeling. “Yes,” he said mindlessly, “yes, please, please Barry - ”

His hips were pushed forward slightly, Barry adjusting him to the right angle, then pulled downward. Barry’s face was in his ass, his beard prickling delightfully, his lips on Ross’s hole, kissing him there wetly. 

“Oh my God,” Ross groaned, and wrapped his mouth around Barry’s dick again. In answer, Barry’s tongue lapped across his opening, and oh, Jesus, it was good. Ross suckled weakly, drooling down his chin, moaning with abandon as Barry ate him out.

They moved as one, connected, finding pleasure in pleasing the other. Barry’s tongue was tireless, his mouth moving seamlessly from Ross’s hole to his balls and back again, groaning and smacking his lips in apparent appreciation. Ross’s heart beat wildly in his chest. He was close, so fucking close, and he could tell by Barry’s increasingly louder noises that he was, too.

And finally, when Ross thought it couldn’t possibly get better, Barry’s tongue pushed _inside_ of him, that hot wet point working him open and plunging in and out. Ross’s brain short-circuited. Barry was fucking him with his tongue, jesus _Christ_. Ross’s fingernails dug into Barry’s thighs and he dropped his head low. Barry’s cock slid down his throat, and Ross couldn’t breathe but he held it there, swallowing around it to make Barry moan. 

It was too much for Barry, who stopped rimming him to gasp, “Oh fuck, Ross, I’m - ”

“Mmm,” was all Ross could say to let him know that he heard, that he understood, that he wanted it in his mouth.

Barry came in thick, hot pulses down Ross’s throat as Ross’s lips milked out every last drop. The taste was incredible, not too salty or bitter. Ross had never enjoyed swallowing before, but always did it patiently like a chore that had to be done, but _this_ , this he swallowed like it was thick cream, chasing the last drop that trickled out when he was done. 

Barry’s breath was hard and fast, tickling Ross’s ass and making him giggle. “You’re incredible,” he said, giving Ross’s slick hole one last kiss before his tongue caressed Ross’s balls. Ross gave a shout and fisted handfuls of the sheets, shuddering and whining as Barry made his way back to his cock and sucked like it was his life’s mission to make Ross come his brains out.

And come his brains out, he did. His elbows buckled and he fell onto Barry’s thighs, crying his pleasure between them as he crested the wave of his climax. Heat rippled through him, his body on fire, his orgasm stretching on and on seemingly without end. Barry’s mouth just kept moving, patient and willing, taking everything Ross had to give. It seemed like a lifetime before Ross came down from the clouds, too boneless and sticky to move, utterly spent.

After - seconds, minutes, Ross didn’t know - Barry gently lifted him up and pulled him back around so his head was on the pillows. Ross opened his eyes and squinted in the glare of the sun. It felt like he had just woken up refreshed from the most wonderful dream in the world. And Barry, wonderful Barry, rolled on his side to cuddle him close, whispering, “That was amazing,” into Ross’s ear. 

“It was hotter than I ever imagined it could be.”

“Thank you. Thank you for trusting me, for making me feel so good.” Barry’s skin glistened with sweat. In the sunlight, his darkness against the white sheets, he looked almost angelic. His eyes were deep jade pools when he looked at Ross. “I love you,” he said, and Ross felt like his heart would nearly burst with joy.

“I love you too, Barry.”

It was pleasant to drift like this, to feel the morning hours slipping away. But eventually the spit all over his dick and in his ass crack started to dry up and left him feeling sticky. He wrinkled his nose and Barry laughed.

“Wanna hop in the shower?”

“A bath would be better.” Ross’s legs were jelly.

“It would,” Barry agreed, “but unfortunately, fitting two people in my bathtub would be a challenge.”

“I like challenges. I bet we could do it if we tried.”

Barry laughed again. “Maybe. The more I think about it…”

“I’m very small.”

“You are,” Barry agreed. “And I like it.”

“Do you have bubble bath?”

“Body wash work for you?”

“I think so.”

“You wash my back and I’ll wash yours?”

“Deal.”


	8. Chapter 8

Ross woke up, surprised to find himself feeling alert and refreshed. The dim light of the room suggested that it was just past the break of dawn. It took him a minute to remember where he was. Barry’s bedroom window faced east and the hills blocked the morning sunlight - it wasn’t as early as it seemed. 

Ross stretched noisily. He turned on his side to look at Barry, fast asleep beside him. His mouth was open and his lips looked soft and kissable. There was a red suck mark on his neck. Ross touched it lightly with the pad of his finger and smiled, thinking of the day before. 

Barry stirred at his touch, his head tilting to the side as if in invitation, and Ross ducked his head to kiss the mark he’d made. That got him a little groan and Barry stirred again, his legs moving, coming out of sleep much more slowly than Ross. Eventually Barry rolled onto his side and took Ross into his arms, pressing their bodies together and huffing out a long, sleepy sigh into Ross’s ear.

Ross couldn’t deny that this was pretty nice. He liked cuddling, especially with Barry, who’s warmth and pleasant softness in all the right places made him the ideal snuggler. But Ross, for all his years defiantly telling everyone that he was not a morning person, felt too worked up to go back to sleep. Energy made his leg jiggle relentlessly. His fingers began to drum on Barry’s chest. Barry still didn’t open his eyes. 

Ross kissed the bridge of his nose, and then between his eyes, and finally his mouth. When he pulled away, Barry’s eyes had opened - little sparkles of blue surrounded by crinkly laugh lines. He looked so sleepy that Ross felt himself start to grin.

“S’early,” Barry explained.

“It’s not. It’s late.”

“How late?”

“I dunno,” Ross said, placidly. “I’m not getting up to check.”

“Where’s your phone?”

Ross shrugged. 

“It’s not on the nightstand where you left it last night?” cajoled Barry, patiently.

“It might be.” 

Patiently, Barry put up with Ross crawling across his body to reach his phone. Ross tried not to jostle him too much. “Nine-thirty,” he reported, with his upper body flung across the bed, his knees anchored on the other side of Barry, his groin firmly pressed into Barry’s chest. He had a couple messages. He flicked through them lazily, making sure he didn’t miss anything important.

“That’s not that late.” Barry’s fingers touched the bare skin on Ross’s back where his shirt was riding up. “We could stay in bed for a while.”

Ross shivered pleasantly at the touch. Barry’s hand was so warm on his skin, his touch so reverent, like Ross could break if handled too roughly. “Sounds good to me.”

“Put your phone down and come back here.” Barry’s voice was low and heavily burred with sleep. 

“Let me just text Arin back,” Ross said, knowing full well that, with his back arched like this, Barry was getting a pretty nice view from where he was. He could hear Barry’s breath come faster and he loved the idea that he could tease and torment him. He grinned and wriggled.

“Yeah?” Barry’s hand moved down, firm and sure as he followed Ross’s spine down to the curve of his ass. “You’re being such a tease,” he said, and then he was slipping his hand between Ross’s thighs and cupping his package through his underwear. 

The shock of it made Ross’s fingers slip. The phone fell from his hand, clattering onto the table.

“No fair,” Ross said weakly. “Fuck, Barry.”

“Can’t help it. It’s right there.”

Ross straightened up and threw one leg over Barry’s hips, rolling smoothly so that he was straddling Barry. Barry’s boxers were soft and plaid and worn, so worn that they were thin enough to see every detail of what was rapidly growing beneath them. Ross looked into Barry’s eyes and rolled his hips, pressing his own dick against Barry’s.

“Mmmh,” Barry hummed, and Ross felt his hardness pulse and swell further. His breath caught in his throat and he couldn’t help himself. He shimmied backward and slipped a hand down between them, wrapping it firmly around Barry’s dick. 

Barry’s hips thrust upward, pushing himself more firmly into Ross’s hand. “Maybe we should go take a shower together. Easier cleanup.”

“The shower would hurt my knees,” Ross said like it was obvious, and watched the effect his words had as Barry figured out his intentions.

“Fuck,” Barry breathed as Ross’s deft fingers pulled at the waistband of his boxers. Ross gave a pull, freeing Barry’s thick erection, which sprang up and bounced enticingly against his soft furry stomach.

Ross adjusted his position and shuffled his knees backward toward the foot of the bed, until he was able to lay flat on Barry’s legs, his head in perfect position. Ross nuzzled Barry’s thigh and then pressed his cheek against Barry’s cock. 

“It’s so soft,” Ross mused.

“I beg to differ,” Barry quipped back, his voice strained.

“You know what I mean. The texture. S’like velvet.” Ross craned his neck to look up at Barry’s flushed face. “You want me to suck it?”

“Ross, _fuck_.”

Ross blinked up at him demurely. He held the gaze as he stuck out his tongue and licked a hot wet stripe up the length of Barry’s shaft. “I didn’t hear a yes,” he breathed, letting his breath cool the wet place where his tongue had been to make Barry shiver. He kissed the tip of Barry’s cock and his lips came away sticky and wet. He smacked them together and said, “Well?”

Barry said, “Oh, God,” as if in disbelief and his hand came down to cup the back of Ross’s head. “ _Yes_ , please yes, _Ross_.”

Ross, encased in warmth, surrounded by Barry’s scent, opened up and lost himself in the easy rhythm, bobbing his head up and down, not pushing himself too far or making a point of trying to take in as much as he could. His movements were slow, uncareful, almost dreamlike. 

“So fucking hot, Ross. Look at you, fuck. You’re beautiful like this.” 

Ross found it strange that Barry’s words could still make him blush, even when he was being this shameless. Never had giving head felt so romantic, something sweet instead of just sexual. Barry’s low moans made him want to rut against the mattress. It was all so perfect that if Ross didn’t know any better he’d think he was still asleep and dreaming. 

He barely noticed the way Barry’s balls began to tighten, the way his moans grew louder and sharper, until Barry tugged gently at Ross’s hair and said warningly, “Ross - hey - I’m really close…”

Ross pulled off wetly, his heartbeat loud in his ears. “You don’t want me to finish?”

“Not yet,” Barry said, hoarsely. “I’d like this to last more than two minutes. You‘re so fucking good at that.”

The praise felt like fire in his veins. Ross gave the head of Barry’s dick one last loving lick before crawling up for a kiss. Barry obliged, uncaring of the taste of himself on Ross’s tongue. Barry kissed him breathless, and when Ross had to pull away, panting, Barry’s lips attached themselves to the smooth line of his law instead. Ross closed his eyes and reveled in it. Barry made him feel so fucking good, so _wanted_ , as gorgeous as Barry claimed he was.

“You can fuck me,” Ross whispered, arching his back as Barry kissed his neck. “How’s that sound?”

Barry groaned into his skin. “Fuck, Ross.”

“Yeah,” Ross agreed, rolling his hips to grind himself up against Barry. “Yeah, come on, fuck me. Please, Barry.”

Barry didn’t answer, but kissed him on the mouth again as sweetly as before. His body was clearly responding to Ross’s touch, but there was something tense about his body language. He was holding back. A little glimmer of anxiety flashed through Ross. He tried to contain it, tried to smile and look more suave than he felt. “What’s wrong? Don’t you want to?”

“Of course I want to,” Barry panted. “But I didn’t think to - I don’t have any condoms. Do you, ah - ”

Ross shook his head. “Is that a big deal?”

The brief silence that followed was enough of an answer.

Ross, his mouth gone dry, attempted a laugh. “I mean, it’s not like you’re going to knock me up. Right?”

“I think,” Barry said slowly, “that we should probably be careful, until we can both get checked out. We’re moving a little fast.”

Ross blinked. Barry’s words hit him like a fist. “Okay.”

“I know it’s a bit of a mood killer,” Barry said quickly, reading the disappointment on Ross’s face, “but we should be smart before we get caught up in the moment and - ”

“I didn’t sleep around,” Ross blurted. The slow burn of humiliation had started in his face and was spreading to the tips of his ears.

Barry gave him a look. “I know that. That’s not what I meant.”

“Jared thought I did, but I didn’t.”

“I _know_ , Ross.”

“I’m not a slut.” 

“Ross - ”

Tears were coming to his eyes now. He felt ridiculous and he couldn’t stop. “I’m clean, okay? I never cheated on Jared, he was _lying_ , I never did - I never did _that_ with anyone but him - ”

“It’s not about that!” Barry sat up, alarmed. “Ross, you can’t be too careful with stuff like this. It’s not just you, either. I’d like to get myself tested. We both should. It’s just the right thing to do in a new relationship. I care about you and I want us to be safe.”

Ross was past listening to reason. It was like Barry had pricked a hole in a balloon and all of Ross’s insecurities had exploded out at once. He flung himself out of bed and kept his face turned away so Barry wouldn’t see his face crumpling. Ross was hit with a flood of memories - Jared’s accusations, his constant suspicions, the nasty things he’d imply about Ross being loose or not good enough for him - and the equally nasty comments on the Internet, because of Jared’s stupid fucking video - 

A single sob burst from his throat. Angry and humiliated, Ross clamped his jaw shut and hunched his shoulders.

Barry cursed and yanked up his underwear. “Ross, hey. Ross. Come on, please, I’m sorry. Talk to me. Ross, please don’t cry.”

Ross shook his head. He found his old clothes in the hamper and pulled them on savagely, smothered by the humiliation. Barry was being reasonable and Ross was acting like a child - he fucking knew that, he knew this was all on him, and he also knew perfectly well that he wasn’t going to stop. Barry was going to feel like shit and Ross couldn’t stop. He was crumbling, and he couldn’t fucking stop.

“Ross…” Barry followed him at a respectable distance as Ross went down the stairs. “Ross, I’m so sorry.”

Ross felt the presence behind him and appreciated that Barry was giving him space. If Barry tried to touch him right now - even just a hand on his shoulder - Ross would crumble even faster. “I have to go.”

“Let me make you breakfast at least? Then, if you want, I’ll drive you home, or to work, wherever you need to go.”

Ross shook his head, still facing away from Barry. His voice was thick. “I’m gonna call an Uber.”

Barry exhaled. “Okay, yeah,” he said. “Yeah, that’s okay too. As long as you’re safe.”

Barry’s concern made Ross feel like an even bigger pile of shit. None of his anger was directed at Barry. Barry loved him. Barry could help him. His friends would be willing to help him. It was just that Ross didn’t feel like he deserved it. How could he deserve anything good after a tantrum out of the blue like this? 

There was a driver two minutes away. Ross pushed open Barry’s front door. 

“If you need me, call me,” Barry had followed him. “Please call me anyway. Ross - please don’t go - it doesn’t feel right, leaving you alone, right after - ”

“I’ll be fine,” Ross said flatly. 

“But Ross - ”

“I’ll call you, okay, fine, now leave me alone!” And now he was shouting, fucking shouting at _Barry_ , and he’d never done that before - he’d never yelled at any of his friends. Ross made the mistake of glancing at Barry’s face, and the look there made him feel like someone was grabbing his heart and crumpling it up into a ball like so much garbage. 

It was ten o’clock. Half an hour from bliss to this. And it was all on him. Barry was willing to give Ross the world and more, and Ross threw it back in his face. And over what? Barry being careful and responsible - Barry making the smart decision that Ross should have thought of himself. 

_You’re thirty years old,_ Jared had said to him in disgust. _Act like it._

Ross couldn’t even remember the context - only the dull burn of humiliation and the feeling of tears drying crusty on his cheeks.

Ross practically fled from the startled Uber driver almost before the car had come to a complete stop. Inside the safety of his own home he was free to cry as much as he wanted to. 

**

The doorbell was ringing. 

Ross had spent the day in a haze, not giving in to the gnawing depression at the corners of his mind, but making no move to push past it, either. The sound of the doorbell confused him, shook him. His eyelids felt heavy and his stomach was empty. He hadn’t managed to muster the strength to eat.

 _A delivery,_ , he was thinking, and if Ross hadn’t still been so dazed, he might have remembered that he didn’t order anything. He was used to living with Jared, who frequently shopped online and made purchases Ross didn’t know about until they arrived. But Ross wasn’t thinking. He was on autopilot. He shuffled to the front door and cracked it open without any hesitation at all.

When he registered who was standing on his front porch, he froze. 

“Hi,” Jared said, and he smiled like there was absolutely no reason why he shouldn’t be there. “Did I wake you up?”

For one awful moment Ross wasn’t sure if everything that had happened since he’d last seen Jared had been part of some dream. The sun’s glare was too bright and Ross felt light headed. A dozen emotions passed through him at once, running by so quickly that he couldn’t register any of them. He had to say something. Say something or close the door. He made his mouth form words. 

“What are you doing here?” Ross blurted.

Jared was still smiling. If he saw Ross’s fear, he didn’t let it show. “I just need to pick up some of my stuff.”

“There’s a few boxes,” Ross said after a beat. His thoughts were scrambled. He backed up a step. “I’ll go get - ”

“I was also hoping I could come in. Talk to you.”

Ross’s gut churned and his fear ratcheted up from a three to a six. “Jared - ”

“I’ve missed you so much.” 

Ross had no words for that. He just stared. Jared looked so benign, standing there with his striking green eyes and soft blue T-shirt. He was so much smaller than Barry, despite his height - Ross had almost forgotten how skinny and lanky he was. His hair had grown out a little, and he’d parted it in the middle rather than combing it back. 

Jared sighed, his eyes downcast. “Are you still mad at me? I’m so sorry we had that fight. You know I never meant to hurt you.”

Ross found his voice then, deep down in some raw hurt place. “You hit me.” 

Jared looked up. “Barry cracked my tooth,” he answered immediately, like that made it okay. 

Ross hadn’t known that. His surprise must have shown on his face, because Jared said, “He really did, look - ” and bared his crooked teeth. There was a tiny chip in one of his front teeth.

Ross couldn’t picture Barry hitting anybody but didn‘t doubt the veracity of Jared’s claim. “I don’t care. You deserved it. You were - ”

“Your friends threw me out of my own house and assaulted me. I’m sure they’ve stolen some of my stuff. I could have gone to the police. But I didn’t, Ross, because I love you so much, and I want to put this all behind us.”

“That’s not - I can’t - ” 

Jared barrelled over him easily. “I know we have some things to work out first.”

“No, we don’t.” Ross’s heart fluttered in his chest. Jared made it sound so casual, like they were just going to discuss what movie to watch next. Unconsciously, Ross pressed closer to the wall.

Jared’s eyes moved, fixing on something just behind Ross. Ross turned, saw his coat rack, Barry’s distinctive leather jacket hanging with all of Ross’s things. Ross felt the bottom drop out of his stomach, the gut reaction of _oh shit_ stronger than the knowledge that he had nothing to be ashamed of.

“Well, that was fast,” Jared said wryly. “I figured he was staying with you.”

“It’s not like that,” Ross said, and then remembered that yeah, it kind of _was_ like that - at least, unless he’d been immature enough to spoil what he had with Barry forever. He had to remind himself that he wasn’t obligated to justify himself.

Jared looked at Ross’s face and then looked away. “Yeah, okay.” He didn’t sound aggressive. Just…hurt. 

“It’s none of your business,” Ross said, wishing he had more weight behind the words. His voice sounded faint. He wasn’t used to seeing Jared like this, so meek and sad.

Jared took a deep breath and shrugged. “I knew he would make a move as soon as he had a chance. That’s why he hit me, why he wanted me gone so bad. I’m not mad at you.”

“I don’t care if you - ”

“Calm down, baby, it’s okay, I said I’m not mad. Look, we need to talk this out. Are you hungry? I can take you out to dinner.”

His presumption lit a spark in Ross, igniting the current of anger. “Jared, what the fuck.” Ross’s small hands tightened into fists, nails digging into his palms. “Are you out of your mind? I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Why are you being like this?” Jared asked, like Ross was the one acting out of line. “I want to do something nice for you. I want to have a reasonable discussion.”

“There is nothing reasonable to discuss!” Ross shouted. Blood rushed to his face. “You beat the shit out of me, you broke my finger, you broke my fucking arm, you - ” He couldn’t bring himself to say the word _rape._ It had felt okay to say it to Holly, and to Barry. It didn’t feel quite the same when Jared himself was standing there. 

“Please stop yelling.” Jared was still calm. “I know you make me angry sometimes, but your arm was only fractured and it was an accident. You fell.”

“You _pushed_ me, you fucking asshole!”

“I didn’t push you.” Jared looked shocked. “I tried to put my hand on your shoulder and you pulled back and fell. I took care of you after.”

Ross opened his mouth to contest that and closed it again. Sometimes Jared had taken care of him after he’d gotten hurt - sometimes he’d been sweet. Sometimes he’d been so nice that Ross forgot all the hurt and just basked in the comfort, the presence of the man he’d loved with all his heart.

He backed up another step, terrified at his own thoughts.

“Hey, hey, wait,” Jared moved closer. “Ross, wait, listen to me.”

Ross made himself put a hand on the doorknob, ready to slam it in Jared’s face. He didn’t answer. He looked at his feet and wondered why his brief bout of rage had left him feeling so empty. 

Jared paused for a few long seconds, then said, “I’m getting professional help.”

Ross looked up, startled. It was the last thing he’d expected Jared to say.

Jared met his gaze. “I know I’ve got some problems,” he said quietly. “And I’m working on them. I want to get better, alright? I want us to be happy again.”

“You told everyone I cheated on you,” Ross said flatly, remembering, with a hot rush of fresh humiliation.

“I took the video down.”

“You what?”

“It was stupid,” Jared said, and his tone was different, somehow. Ross didn’t associate that serious, introspective voice with Jared’s personality at all. “I was drinking, and I made some really dumb choices, but I took that video down and put up an apology instead.”

“An apology?” Ross echoed.

“I told everyone that I said some dishonest things, and that nothing was your fault.”

“And what?” Ross demanded, after absorbing this shock. “Now you want me to say that I forgive you and it’ll all just go away?”

“I’ve been trying so hard,” Jared pleaded. “I never really wanted to hurt you, okay? If I did I would have called the police on Barry. You know me, Ross, I get angry but then I just cool right down and regret everything. I always apologize.”

Ross snorted.

“Well, you didn’t exactly give me a chance last time, sure. But every other time - ”

“Like when you made me slice my hand open and pushed me into the cabinet?”

“What?” Jared looked startled. “Do you mean that time you came home after Barry got you drunk, and you were freaking out at me for wanting to know why you came home so late?”

“I wasn’t _drunk_ \- ”

“You stumbled and fell and hit your own head off the cupboard,” Jared insisted. “You told the doctors that, remember? You broke a glass and cut yourself on it. You were getting water, because you were so dehydrated from drinking so much.”

Ross said nothing. His memories suddenly seemed even fuzzier when he tried to call them up.

“Well, I’m sorry for getting mad about that,” Jared said quickly, “but really, Ross, you were acting pretty stupid that night, and getting real cozy with Barry.”

“I didn’t. I didn’t, I swear. You weren’t even _there_ , how would you know?”

“No,” Jared admitted, “but Jirard was, at least before you and Barry left the bar, and he said you were practically in Barry’s lap all night.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Ross chewed his lip. “We weren’t doing anything serious, we were just joking around and - ”

Jared shook his head. “It doesn‘t matter,” he said. “Let’s not fight, this is silly.”

“I didn’t fucking cheat on you!” Ross shouted at him weakly, his eyes burning hot with barely suppressed tears. 

“I never said you cheated.”

“You _did_ , you made a whole video about it, even if you did take it down after, and I watched it and you said - ”

“Please,” Jared interrupted, holding a hand up. “I don’t want to fight. Please.”

Ross fell silent. He looked at his hands and saw them trembling, and only then did he realize that his whole body was shaking like a leaf. He felt jumbled, confused, totally lost. He hated Jared - he loved Jared - he didn’t want to fight - he wanted to feel safe again, loved and wanted and _safe_. His eyes burned and his chest heaved. His resolve was crumbling.

“Ross,” Jared said warmly, comfortingly, and before Ross could do anything - not that he knew what he would have done, given the time to do it - Jared had stepped forward and embraced him. 

Ross’s face pressed into Jared’s shoulder. He didn’t want to cry, not in front of Jared, not after all he’d been through. But he couldn’t help it. Somewhere, deep down in his chest, there was a painful spike of memory, something that had been buried for weeks. 

It was the ache of missing Jared, missing the man he’d once been. Missing his former best friend.

Ross’s face moved, his nose ending up in Jared’s neck. The smell of him brought back a slew of old memories. Ross remembered the first time he’d kissed Jared, both of them wide-eyed and nervous as hell. The first time they’d touched each other, which was also, for both of them, the first time they’d touched another man. Jared had been so gentle then. He’d been gentle when they made love, too. His eyes were so huge and he kept nuzzling Ross’s ear, asking him if it hurt, asking him if he was sure he didn’t want it to stop.

 _Don’t stop,_ Ross had whispered, the pleasure already rolling through his body, setting every inch of him on fire. _I like it, it’s so good, please don’t stop_ , and Jared’s eyes had gleamed like emeralds in the dark, wide and startled when Ross tentatively clenched around him.

Ross made a choked noise. Jared rubbed his back.

“It’s okay,” he murmured into Ross’s ear. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“You hurt me.”

“I know.”

Ross put his arms around Jared, hugging him back even as he said, “You _don’t,_ fuck, Jared. You have no idea. You hurt me so fucking bad and then you turn up here like nothing’s wrong, and I can’t - I can’t -” He choked on his own words and gripped Jared tighter, wanting the comfort of Jared’s warmth and hating himself for it. He was so fucking lonely after walking out on Barry - and god, he was still reeling from that fight too - it was nice, to feel someone’s arms around him.

“I want to fix it,” Jared murmured as he stroked Ross’s hair. “I want to make it better.”

“It’s too late. It’s…you can’t just make all of this go away.”

“I know.”

“I can’t forget what you did. You fucking ruined me.”

“I know. I know, baby, I’m so fucking sorry.” Jared slid a hand beneath Ross’s chin. “I love you, Ross.”

Ross didn’t say it back, but he didn’t pull away. 

Jared leaned forward and brushed his mouth against Ross’s, a dry and chaste closed-mouth kiss. It happened so quickly that Ross didn’t have a chance to react. Ross froze, staring at Jared, wondering what the hell to say.

Jared’s eyes searched Ross’s face. He gave Ross a little smile, a question. Ross still didn’t move. Not even when Jared came at him again, more slowly, his hand sliding around the back of Ross’s head just before he kissed Ross again, tender at first. When Ross made no move to pull away Jared deepened the kiss.

Ross came to his senses when he felt Jared’s warm mouth part, his wet tongue flicking at Ross’s lower lip. He broke the kiss and stumbled backward. “Jared,” he said, half-reproachfully, half-fearfully, “that’s not - I can’t - we’re not - ”

“I’m sorry,” Jared said, reaching to steady him. “I didn’t mean to. I couldn’t help it.”

Ross wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “You need to go.”

“Ross…” Jared’s eyes were pleading.

“You have to go. I’ll get your stuff.” 

Ross turned away and raced up the stairs two at a time. He was so caught up in his shame that he didn’t even realize he hadn’t closed the door behind him. Jared could walk right in. Upstairs, Ross would be trapped. The panic hit him, the primeval fear of being chased, and he scrambled up to the landing with his heart in his throat. 

When he turned around, he could still see Jared standing on the porch, benign as ever.

Ross let out a breath.

Maybe it was stupid to think Jared would chase him. Jared wasn’t a monster. Was he? Maybe Ross was just stupid, cowardly and stupid. Stupid like getting drunk and sitting in Barry’s lap at an e-sports bar where anyone could see, where everyone knew he had a boyfriend at home. Jared had been right to be angry. _I’ll be home by midnight,_ Ross had promised him, then had to get Barry to get an Uber to take him home at nearly three AM. The music and the laughter and the flow of booze - and Barry’s presence - had made him completely lose track of time. 

And he _had_ been touching Barry a lot, teasing him, putting his cold beer can up against Barry’s bare stomach and giggling. He remembered Jirard’s raised eyebrow.

And Jared had gotten mad. Could Ross blame him? Ross would have been mad, too. Hell - he’d been mad enough at Barry just yesterday for wanting to use a condom.

Jared’s things were stowed in the closet of the spare room like Barry hadn’t even wanted to look at the boxes. They weren’t heavy - it was mostly just clothes, and one of his extra laptops - but Ross struggled to pick one of them up. He grunted with the strain.

“Want some help?” Jared called up.

Ross gritted his teeth. “Yeah.”

“Hold on, babe.”

The pet name didn’t register with Ross until he saw Jared in the room with him, totally at ease, like this was still his home. Jared smiled at him and took the larger box easily. He stacked a smaller one on top and navigated back down the stairs. Ross followed with the third and smallest box. 

“Thanks,” Jared said when Ross followed him right up to his car. “Just put it down, I’ll get them in the trunk.”

Ross leaned against the sun-warm car. He felt dizzy again. Probably because he hadn’t eaten anything. 

“Are you okay?” Jared asked, sounding sincerely concerned. 

Ross shook his head. He could still feel Jared’s lips on his own. God, had he just cheated on Barry? Had he just proved himself to be what he’d gotten so angry at Jared for calling him? “I’ll be alright.”

Jared nodded uncertainly. “I’ll call you, okay? 

“Okay.”

“I love you.”

“Okay,” Ross whispered, recoiling. He wasn't sure how to react to that. His heart fluttered but his stomach rolled and the conflict was too confusing for him to handle. “I - yeah, okay.”

He closed his eyes when Jared leaned toward him again. At the last second he turned his face so Jared’s lips met his cheek instead. 

Jared didn’t seem to mind. Ross could feel him smile against his skin. He put his arms around Ross’s shoulders and gave him a quick squeeze. “We’ll talk soon. Goodbye, Ross.”

Ross didn’t answer. He backed away from Jared’s car and watched in dull silence as it pulled away and disappeared around the corner of the crescent.


End file.
